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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757438">One-Shots: Attack on Titan | Shingeki no Kyojin</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofpandemonium/pseuds/ladyofpandemonium'>ladyofpandemonium</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mild Language, Mild Smut, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:33:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,049</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757438</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofpandemonium/pseuds/ladyofpandemonium</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of fics featuring characters from the anime/manga Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin. Some of these were requested on Tumblr, others are original! This collection is also available on Wattpad under the same title. Enjoy!</p><p>—Lady of Pandemonium</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Levi &amp; Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. It's Not Paradise | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b> <em>Canon!Levi x Pianist! Reader</em> </b>
</p>
<p></p><div class="tumblr_parent">
<p></p><div><p>
      <b> <em>Canon verse — flangst [fluff + angst]</em> </b>
    </p></div><div><p>Prompt (<a href="https://proseofpandemonium.tumblr.com/post/632568070516375552/%F0%9D%90%92%F0%9D%90%8E%F0%9D%90%85%F0%9D%90%93-%F0%9D%90%92%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%8D%F0%9D%90%93%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%8D%F0%9D%90%82%F0%9D%90%84-%F0%9D%90%92%F0%9D%90%93%F0%9D%90%80%F0%9D%90%91%F0%9D%90%93%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%91%F0%9D%90%92">here</a>): “Promise me. Promise me you’ll stay.”</p></div><div><p>A/N: low-key self-indulgent… ALSO, I listened to <em><a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/792raQlbqlsC71L0djqZwU?si=0fjbpOLCS3qrg68_I1_rUQ">Paradise</a> </em>by <em>Anderson Rocio </em>while writing this. Probably what the reader is playing, too, hehe.</p></div><div><hr/></div><p>It was hardly a mystery to you; the fact that several bodies came back as a result of every scouting expedition. The thought—the worry, in particular—always gnawed at the back of your mind, and no matter how hard you tried not to let it cloud your rationality, you couldn’t quite help it. When Eren came into the picture, that same worry refused to keep itself tucked away in some dark corner of your mind.</p><p>You’d never met the boy, nor had you heard of him before. Still, you read about his victory—humanity’s victory—in Trost when the rumours were established in the morning papers. </p><p>When had you last seen Levi? Before he departed for the expedition. There was no news of or from him since Trost fell. Unlike the usual ritual of citizens gathering around the gate to watch the Scouts come back, you had to wait for Levi to find you. You had no doubts he would do so <em>if he were alive</em>.</p><p>“Hello! Are you—” </p><p>“Lady, move! We ain’t got all day.” </p><p>That was what broke your train of thought; a narrowly-avoided shove and your co-worker’s hand on your shoulder. You had merely opened your mouth to stammer an excuse to her, but she shook her head and guided you to the back room of the cafeteria you were playing at tonight. </p><p>Then, about an hour later, you were sitting in front of the piano you had grown accustomed to. Your fingers brushed the shiny keys before you sucked in a deep breath and hit the first one. Then another, and another, and another until they played a tune you could sing to. The few minutes you did this were the only ones without worry. Still, the thought of Levi never left you. </p><p>To say that you were surprised when you returned to the back room was the understatement of the century, perhaps only second to saying the scout regiment was a risky place. </p><p>Levi stood leaning against your dresser. Alive and in one piece. </p><p>While astonishment rooted your body by the door, Levi found your eyes, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “You just going to stand there or what?”</p><p>His words shattered the shackles holding you in place, and you closed the door behind you in a flash. “Wha— Where—” For a good few seconds, you stuttered like that, as if you left your voice with piano back in the cafeteria. Then, you simply quit talking. Instead. you moved to wrap your arms around Levi’s torso. The moment your head landed on his firm chest, a kiss to the crown of your head followed. Levi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, calloused fingers squeezing lightly as they left the pockets of his slacks. Needless to say, his worries faded, if only a little.</p>
<hr/><p>“A titan? A-Are you <em>sure</em>?” </p><p>“Damn sure, Y/N.” Said Levi, taking a sip of tea.</p><p>What had kept Levi was the apparently true rumour regarding Eren, the cadet you had heard about everywhere you performed in the last three days, or so. You had paid it no mind having deemed it impossible for a fifteen-year-old to turn into a fifteen-meter titan, and seal the breach in Trost. It had to have been an excuse to momentarily cover up a failed recapture plan.</p><p>Yet the man sat in front of you confirmed it to be true when you inquired about it. It wasn’t like Levi to talk about Scouting business with you. While you shared in his silent grief over lost comrades, treated his injuries when given the chance and offered whatever comfort you could to him, you never pressed for details like this.</p><p>Sat around the kitchen table, nodding, still processing the confirmation, you took a sip from your own steaming cup. The clink of Levi’s cup against the teapot made you nod again, clearly absent. Levi made no comment over it, understanding the situation was not an easy one to wrap your head around. </p><p>Although Levi had every intention to stay prior to Eren’s discovery, he was leaving your house by nightfall. After all, the Scouts had to prepare some kind of proposal for the trial, and you wholly wished it would play out in their favour. In comfortable silence, you watched him lace up his boots, clicking his tongue when the shoelace slipped a bit further into the flap that he’d prefer. You giggled, earning a soft glare from him. </p><p>“Hey,” You called, striding forward to unlock the door, teeth gnawing at your lower lip. “You wouldn’t mind if I attend the trial, would you? Citizens are allowed, so…”</p><p>Levi faced you, meeting your eyes and searching them for a moment with his own. Then, pulling you closer by the arm, he kissed your forehead. “As long as you don’t get yourself in trouble, I don’t care. Can’t promise I’ll find your ass after the damn thing is over, so don’t wait around for me.“</p><p>‘When will I see you again?’ The question was on the tip of your tongue, but you refused to let it fall, knowing Levi would have no answers. It depended entirely on circumstances which he could neither foresee nor predict. Instead, you smiled at the feel of his firm lips against your skin, nodding as you moved to meet them with your own. As your fingers brushed against the shaved side of his head, Levi pretended he didn’t shiver at your touch. You pretended with him, pulling away from the kiss to find his grey eyes once more. Then, reluctantly, Levi pulled the door open and stepped out of the house. </p>
<hr/><p>Overnight, you grew impossibly antsier. If there was Eren, there had to be more like him. The Colossal and the Armoured Titans, for two, had to have been shifters. Sure, you had no proof, but both logic and your gut told you the same. </p><p>These thoughts stuck with you even as you shuffled in with the crowd gathered for Eren’s trial. The first person you recognized was Erwin, taller than most, and then you found Levi’s eyes. He stood by Erwin, half-hidden behind another soldier, but your eyes locked and, somehow, it made you even more uneasy.  </p><p>As the trial progressed, you couldn’t tell if you sided with or against Eren. His danger would be ever-present, but all you could see was a kid, a child unable to move past losing as much as he had. Empathy overshadowed your own fear of him, and just as an MP lifted his gun to shoot the boy, a gasp ripped from your throat punctuated by a harsh kick to Eren’s face. Blinking rapidly, you only now realized Levi had left his post beside Erwin and was currently kicking the living daylights out of the poor boy. Silence enveloped the room, more brutal kicks echoing around the room. You jolted each time Levi’s boots made an impact, a shiver crawling up your spine. </p><p>Eren might not be the only thing the scene made an impact on, because in the end Eren was handed to Scouts. It relieved the empathetic side of you but roused the worried one. <em>This mission is suicide. </em></p>
<hr/><p>“<b>Promise me.</b>” You murmured, “<b>Promise me you’ll stay.</b>”</p><p>“Stay where?” Levi droned, rough fingers like jagged feathers against your skin. “I’m already here, Y/N.”</p><p>You couldn’t help the chuckled that fell from your lips into the darkness of your room. You could feel the slightest hints of a smile against your hair before you lifted your head from Levi’s shoulder and sat up straighter. You hadn’t meant to say it to him; you were only reading, unable to hold your tongue when the sentence crossed your eyes. </p><p>Of course, Levi understood this, but he could also read the worry in your body language the moment he came home to you. The expedition was within two days, and Hanji had insisted on having important experiments to do with Eren. Levi used it as an excuse, leaving the boy in Hanji’s hopefully-safe hands. </p><p>The excuse of reading aloud, it would’ve worked because Levi read between the lines. Still, you didn’t use it. “Stay safe, maybe?” </p><p>Levi heaved a sigh. You tore your eyes away from his, marking your book before putting it aside and resigning yourself to Levi’s arms again, head against his shoulder. He kissed your crown, shuffling under the covers to find your hand and encase it in his. “I promise I’ll try, you little brat.” His voice had both the hint of reassurance you needed and the tone that told you he couldn’t promise more. You took that bittersweet pill, bidding him both goodbye and good luck the next morning. And again from the edge of the crowd when the Scouts assembled to leave, and the gates of Calaneth dropped shut behind them, shaking the earth to mirror your heart.</p></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Flinch | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b><em>Levi x Reader</em> </b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em> <b>Canon-verse—flangst (fluff + angst, honestly more angst)</b></em>
  </p>
</div><hr/><p>There were a million other things you could have done: slice the jaw of the titan open, cut off its arm, the nape—anything but this. Anything but panicking like a fresh-out-of-training cadet and nearly getting your head chomped off in an attempt to pull another scout from the mouth of one of several little titans with a seven-meter approaching. To make matters worse, Hanji had been hell-bent on capturing the seven-meter, round-bellied titan.</p><p>In your rush to hold the sobbing cadet close and launch your gear, one of the smaller titans surrounding you bit into your arm, drawing a pained screech from your lips. Had it not been for Levi’s and Oluo’s combined efforts in which he sliced the smaller beasts and Oluo retrieved you and the poor cadet, you were certain you would have ended up as titan fodder. In the meantime, Hanji’s prey was swiftly taken care of by the remainder of squad Levi. Like the convincingly mad scientist they were, Hanji sulked over the loss of her unauthorized test subjects while the cadet you saved was pried off of your stiff form.</p><p>In two long strides, Levi had closed the distance between himself and Hanji, grabbing the scientist by the collar like they weigh nothing. “If you want to end up as titan shit, be my guest, but don’t go putting the lives of my men in danger.”</p><p>His tone was so much harsher than the norm, and every spectator knew it had a lot do with the blood soaking through your shirt and half-chewed jacket sleeve. In an attempt to break up the storm you knew was going to come with some science-y remark Hanji would make about Levi’s threat, you stalked over and gently tugged on him. What you hadn’t taken into account was your own utter recklessness in single-handedly trying to take down a small group of 2 to 3-meter titans, all while trying to save a cadet from one’s mouth.</p><p>“And you,” Levi started, rounding on you so fast he practically dragged Hanji with him, “L/N, are you a goddamn cadet? What the fuck were—”</p><p>“Captain—” Petra tried to defend you, but, of course, Hanji had to try in her own way which happened to be exactly what you’d tried to prevent. “Titans don’t have a digestive system, so neither of us could become titan shit!”</p><p>If looks could kill, Hanji would be dead a million times over. Thankfully, another Scout approached the throng of soldiers with orders to retreat. Levi relented, stalking away from both you and Hanji to mount his horse. He barely waited for the rest of you lot to follow suit before kicking off back towards the walls.</p>
<hr/><p>Five days past the expedition, and you heard nothing but indirect orders from the captain. For the better part of that timespan, you stuck to the infirmary, recovering from your injuries. Today, however, you are going to find Levi even if it cost you more physical pain than necessary. After all, you are still recovering.</p><p>Making sure your arm suffers as little as possible, you shuffle out of the infirmary after dressing yourself, hair still damp from your nurse-aided shower. Winding your way around the base, several Scouts pause to ask about your well-being. You tell each of them you’re getting better as you make your way to Levi’s office. The lack of candlelight peeking from under the door tells you he has either fallen asleep or wasn’t here at all. Still, you rap your knuckles on the wooden door, biting your lip as nerves start to surface.</p><p>“Y/N.” A faint call from behind you has you turning to face Levi and the tea he carries on a tray. Taking a glance at your arm, he pushes the door of his office open, holding it until you slip in. The door closes behind the two of you as Levi sets the tray a few inches from the edge of his desk, not bothering to meet your eyes though you can be sure he feels your buzzing nerves like heat from the sun.</p><p>For a split second, you aren’t sure if you should call him by name or title because, clearly, Levi didn’t take your recklessness kindly. Part of your wonders if he distanced himself because he’d retreated into the mindset of losing you, or if it was just that he was angry. Regardless, you have to say something, anything.</p><p>“Captain Levi,” You breathe, watching him find another cup from the cupboard in his office. Your lips press together, teeth incessantly chewing on the edge before you clear your throat and speak again, “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“What for?” He monotones, spilling the warm liquid into the two cups, placing one in front of you.</p><p>“I know you are upset with me,” You mutter, seating yourself in one of the chairs as Levi sits in his own behind the desk. He doesn’t make any move to start on the stacks of paperwork that cover over half the desk, sipping his tea as he finally meets your eyes. He leans forward, replacing his cup on its saucer, “That doesn’t answer my question.”</p><p>You look from him to the dark tea sitting in front of you, hand wrapped around the cup for some kind of warmth against the shiver that runs down your spine. Whether it is because of your damp hair, or the situation, you don’t know. “For being reckless,” You steal a glance at him. He’s still watching you.</p><p>“Remind me, Y/N, what was our objective?” From his tone, you can tell your recklessness isn’t the only thing that angered him. When you take too long to answer, Levi continues, “Was it to recklessly jump into the mouth of a titan to save the recruit, as you did?”</p><p>“No, sir,” You retort, raising your head to look Levi in the eye, “but should I have let her die? Should I have done nothing?”</p><p>Levi pinches the bridge of his nose, brows furrowed as he closes his eyes. At this point, he’s making you run in circles. What is eh so damn upset about? Your being reckless? Lossing a supply wagon because of said recklessness? Talking back to him?</p><p>“Levi, just tell me what you’re so upset about. It wasn’t my fault that horde of titans came out of nowhere or that—”</p><p>“Damnit, Y/N,” His hand slams against the table, some of his own tea splashing onto the desk, “you put everyone on your squad in a fucking dangerous situation because you didn’t think things through. Without any regard for your own damned life, you went straight for four titans without any backup.”</p><p>Levi is a harsh man; you know that. You knew that when you were placed onto his team, you knew that when you asked to speak with him in private, you knew that when you had told him you wanted him anyway. And, maybe because he wanted you too, you had never faced this side of Levi. Sure, you had seen it with cadets, the MPs, but his harshness had never been directed towards you directly. Why would it be? You never allowed him a chance to have any complaints with you. Until now, that is.</p><p>So it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you or him when you flinched. Levi rises to his feet, eyes boring into your wide ones as he rounds the edge table. You sink further into your chair, hoping it’d swallow you, but before you know it Levi is face to face with you.</p><p>“Don’t ever do that again, Y/N.” Now, Levi’s voice is a lot calmer, maybe even a hint apologetic. Cautiously, he reaches a hand out to pat your head. You swallow, nodding as you release a shaky breath just when your head bobs slightly upon impact.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Levi.” You murmur once more. His hand leaves your damp hair to find your balled fist on, still on his desk from when you had clenched it tight without even realizing it. In response, Levi places a soft kiss onto your forehead, somewhat apologetic himself for being so harsh with you as he feels you relax into his touch again.</p><p>Levi is a harsh man, but he is also gentle in his own way.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. High Five? | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>Student!Levi x Student!Reader</em>
    </b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <b> <em>Highschool AU—cRaCk (for real, this was so much fun to write), fluff-ish</em> </b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <hr/>
  <p> </p>
</div><p>Levi had stayed up on a video call with you for more than half the night, explaining and re-explaining the concepts, making you do practice questions—anything that either of you thought would prepare you for this god-damned midterm. If he was able, he would have come over and did all of that in person instead of losing time over technical issues and unstable internet connections, but with you at your aunt’s house, for the time being, Levi scrapped the option.</p>
<p>When all was said and done, you dared to catch up on the few hours of sleep you could manage after thanking Levi a million times; so many, in fact, that even <em>he </em>felt a shade overwhelmed by your gratitude. How could you not shower him with thanks and praise when he not only bothered to help you, but sacrificed his already hectic sleep schedule? Not to mention Levi must have had the patience of a saint considering your mathematics was <em>barely </em>average while his own scores were perfect.</p>
<p>Now, about a week after, you were facing your results. To say that you were jittery was an understatement; it wouldn’t be hard to mistake you for a cat on a hot, tin roof. Were you this anxious because these grades would earn you an acception or rejection in university, or because you would rather die than have Levi think he wasted all those hours? To that, you had no answer.</p>
<p>Regardless, you attempted to stop your leg from bouncing as if it had a mind of its own as the teacher weaved through the desks, placing little cards face down on them. </p>
<p>Levi sat in the row behind you, your anxiety evident to him through the occasional shift of his own desk. Personally, he thought you would do well on the mid-terms, but made no attempt to calm you. It would be futile. </p>
<p>Your own results card came face down on your desk, the teacher pausing to glance at you for a split second before moving on. You wished you had seen her expression to gauge how <em>terrible </em>you were sure you did despite Levi’s excellent tutoring. </p>
<p>It seemed like the lesson had ended when it only began by the time you flipped your results card over, your teeth biting into your cheek making the inner flesh numb. </p>
<p>He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about how you did, having never agreed to tutor anyone before. Levi did not have the patience for it, at least that is what he assumed until you came along, nearly begging for him to help because he was top of the class.</p>
<p>Although his own results would be satisfactory—that much he was sure of—Levi flipped over the card, steel eyes cutting through each letter that represented his score: two A*s and an A. Satisfied, he allowed the edge of his lips to hint at a smirk as chatter filled the classroom, students discussing their scores with one another, some slapping their foreheads over silly mistakes.</p>
<p>“Oh my God; what in the name of Pythagoras have I done? Levi—” </p>
<p>
  <em>Smack!</em>
</p>
<p>You had swivelled around in your seat so fast, nearly losing your balance, hand raised and expecting to meet Levi’s. While it did meet Levi, it wasn’t his hand. Instead, it was his forehead. Behold, the most ludicrous moment in your life: you had practically slapped your saviour’s forehead. </p>
<p>A gasp ripped from your throat only after Levi’s slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, allowing you a look at his deadpan expression. Yes, you definitely missed the way his eyes had widened for a moment and the moment he questioned what in the name of Pythagoras had you done indeed. You had missed all of that thanks to your complete and utter mortification, leaving you to stutter, try and <em>fail </em>at apologizing. </p>
<p>Invasions like these would have earned anyone else a rough shove from the boy, but Levi took the chance to glance at your results card, catching the little column of nothing below a B. That was all he could see with the other half pressed against your chest. When he met your eyes, he found you still trying to find the words to apologize. Barking out a laugh, Levi lowered your wrist, still keeping it in his hold as he leaned his head against his free palm.</p>
<p>“Congratulations, brat,” Levi’s palm left his cheek, laying two firm pats on your head, “you did good.”</p>
<p>Then, at your beaming smile, he released your wrist, “Could have done without <em>that</em>, though.”</p>
<p>Voice thinly laced with amusement, Levi folded his arms as you half laughed, half coughed. Shrugging your shoulders, you placed the results card on his desk, holding your hand up with your palm facing him, “High five?”</p>
<p>“Tch…” Still, Levi’s palm slapped weakly against yours, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he glanced down at your report card. Maybe he should tutor you more often; so long as you didn’t whack him on the forehead again, Levi thought he would do just that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Diagnosis | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>Surgeon AU — fluff(?)</em>
    </b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p><b> <em>Warnings: </em> </b> <em>mentions of blood and kind-of graphic description of surgery, particularly spinal surgery.</em></p>
</div><div class="npf_wrap">
<p></p><div class="npf_row">
<p></p><div><hr/></div></div></div><p>Sweat dribbled along Levi’s hairline, scalpel carefully cutting through the tissues of the patient that lay unconscious in front of him. Before he could ask it of you, you were already wiping his forehead, discarding the tissue as soon as you were done. </p><p>Two other staff members kept track of the monitors, taking readings at intervals Levi had previously assigned them. The inside of the operation theatre felt like a low-burning furnace but all you could focus on was the scene in front of you: someone’s spine being operated on, to put it simply. </p><p>Levi handed you the bloodied scalpel, holding his hand out for you to place the tongs in. For what felt like hours, nothing changed; not the metallic smell of blood underlined with sweat, not the tools you and Levi exchanged. The container holding discarded apparatus got fuller by the minute as did the one in which you tossed all the used stained tissues, cotton and other material Levi wiped the operation wound with. </p><p>It was no easy feat, but <em>he</em> made it look easier than you had expected. If it were a downside of being placed under Levi or a silver lining you couldn’t quite choose, but it didn’t matter when your favourite thing in the world would have to be it. </p><p>Sure, Dr. Levi Ackerman had his infamously short temper, his rough handling of things that weren’t skin and the occasional satirical comments he’d make–some of which undoubtedly entertained you. Still, Levi had the patience of a saint; you’d swear on anything that he did. How else was he able to perform such complicated procedures with perfect accuracy /and/ deal with the admittedly stupid things you seldom did? He had to be patient.</p><p>Regardless, a big chunk of your own expertise was passed on to you by him. He was your senior, your mentor and this, watching him work, was basically your secondary duty. And while your duties did not include the following, you couldn’t help the occasional bursts of electricity in your veins when you caught the way Levi’s Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed, the way he concentrated with his brows furrowed, and the way you sometimes caught yourself shivering if he happened to pass by you on shifts. </p><p>Now, you held the glass dish being loaded with bits of extracted spinal tissue while Petra—another junior doctor like yourself—dealt with the spurts of fresh blood. She took the stained pieces of cotton and the dish from you to discard them as Levi instructed you to prepare for the final step: sealing the incision.</p><p>Again, you wiped Levi’s brow before moving to thread the needle, tying the ends of the thread and placing it in his open palm. Shuffling to the opposite side of the table your gloved fingers came down to hold the muscle and skin close. The needle poked through the patient’s tanned skin, crossing the microscopic distance between the two flaps of flesh and muscle before the thread followed. </p><p>Petra took to |sporadically| wiping both yours and Levi’s foreheads to prevent sweat from contaminating the incision. Neat stitches lined the cut flesh, holding the flaps of skin close so that when you pulled your blood-stained, gloved fingers away the wound did not open. </p><p>The final part of the procedure involved stitching the topmost layer of skin and cleaning. You held the incision together one last time, Levi swiftly sealing it. Then, Petra and you cleaned excess blood, took the final readings of the patient’s vitals and cleared the area. </p><p>Levi took care of discarding his own gloves and mask, making sure to put anything that needed sterilizing where it would be taken care of by you, Petra or other medical staff. Then, he left the room to speak with the patient’s family. </p><p>You and Petra finished your own tasks, leaving the patient in the remaining staff’s hands so she could be moved to the ward.  </p><p>“Go,” Petra piped behind you. You were going to sterilize the equipment, but she was quick to take it from your hands. Petra had just joined the staff a few hours ago when her shift began. Meanwhile, you were here for the last two shifts thanks to the two surgeries scheduled for today. </p><p>“Thank you, Petra.” You offered your ginger-haired colleague a grateful smile, slipping out of the room after discarding your gloves and mask. The first thing you did was wash your hands in the staff bathroom, drying them up with tissues as you recalled your schedule for the day. You had another surgery to assist in tonight, only this time you would be assisting both the head of the department, Dr. Hanji Zoe, and Levi. </p><p>With an exhausted sigh, you made the decision to make yourself some coffee in the break room and try to rest your sour feet by sitting the hell down. Your feet felt like they spent the last five hours in an iron maiden, shoulders stiff and knees like hardened jelly.  </p><p>When you rounded the corner, finding Oluo fiddling with tea leaves, a smile crept onto your lips. With the grimace on Oluo’s face, it seemed lie he had insisted on brewing Levi’s tea and was now struggling with it.</p><p>“He let you? Finally?”</p><p>Oluo looked over his shoulder at you taking a cup and stalking over to the coffee machine, eyes daring you to mock him further. Oh, you knew all about why. For the past year, your co-worker had been imitating your boss in an attempt to catch Petra’s attention. And, yes, you knew Petra had a thing for Levi—not that you could blame her; you did, too.</p><p>“No, someone called him to his office urgently, so he left in a little rush,” Said Oluo, meeting your eyes, “and in a not-so-happy mood, too.”</p><p>“And you thought you could either make the tea for him or clean up?”</p><p>“And waste tea?”</p><p>You couldn’t help the chuckled that bubbled in your throat, the coffee machine chiming to indicate your own drink was ready to go. You didn’t bother to pick your cup from the platform, pulled Oluo away from the cup with a shake of your head. </p><p>“You have certainly worked with Dr. Ackerman long enough to know,” you muttered, reaching for a clean cup, “that he’s very particular with his tea. Pouring hot water over a tea bag will taste like horse piss to him!”</p><p>Oluo took the tea you’d pushed aside, imitating Levi’s mannerisms and taking a seat, muttering something about you being Levi’s stalker or something along the line. Petra was right; Oluo and Levi could’ve been born different species and they’d be more alike than they were now. Ignoring the seldom irritation man, you brewed the tea—properly, this time—before taking the up and setting off for Levi’s office. </p><p>That is where you found Levi changed back into his normal clothes: maroon button-down, black slacks. He stood over his desk, flipping through pages of a file, and you could tell he’d caught exactly where the treatment had gone downhill. Biting the inside of your cheek, you rapped your knuckles lightly against the square of glass on his door beside his name, designation and specialty.</p><p>“Come in, Dr. L/N, come in.” </p><p>That is another thing you’d noticed: Levi used your name, and he used it a lot more. Yet, you brushed the observation under the rug of overthinking because you were acting like a lovestruck pup who wanted to take everything as a sign. Balancing the teacup, you pushed the door open, closing it behind you as you carefully set the cup down a few inches from the edge of Levi’s desk.</p><p>He closed the file, practically ripping off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose, then rub at his eyes. Levi was tired, exhausted even, if the dark circles under his eyes told you anything.</p><p>“Do you want me to have a look at these?” You asked, chin jutting out towards the small stack of files on his desk, thumb fingering your ring. </p><p>“No.” Came Levi’s curt reply, “No. We have another surgery tonight, and you’ve been here all day. Get some rest, kid.”</p><p>“So have you!” You hadn’t meant for your voice to sound like you had snapped, but it did. And when Levi’s silvery eyes darted to your fiery ones, you threw caution to the wind and continued, “In fact, you’ve been here all night and day. Please, take a break.” </p><p>A beat of silence before you realized what you’d missed, “sir.”</p><p>“I’ll consider it,” Said Levi, folding his glasses and setting them into their case before meeting your eyes again, “if you answer my question.”</p><p>You blinked, like an owl. You were expecting something a bit harsher, and it showed in the way your body had stiffened. He took his seat, putting the file he was looking at on top of the stack of others to place his teacup in front of him. At his behest, you took a seat, too, only now realizing your coffee would be cold as ice by the time you went back to the beak room.</p><p>For a moment, Levi stared into the depths of his black tea, taking a tentative sip as you bit the inside of your cheek. The hint of satisfaction in the crease of his brows told you that the tea wasn’t too bad. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but do you—”</p><p>He paused, glancing at the ring on your finger. You glanced at it, too, the back up at him. Levi’s lips pressed together, swallowing whatever he was going to ask with a gulp of his tea. He set the cup on its saucer, taking the file from the stack again. “Screw it. I’ll take a break after this. You’re dismissed.”</p><p>Confusion encased your being as you looked at him like an owl, a lost puppy. Though he tried not to make it obvious, you caught his jaw tightening and you refused to believe it had anything to do with the damned file. Glancing at the ring, then back at him, you said the most moronic thing you could have without any regard for what it could start between the two of you, “You think I’m engaged?”</p><p>The top flap of the file fell closed, Levi’s cup lucky enough to land on its saucer. “What?”</p><p>“Isn’t that why you swallowed your question? The ring? You think I’m engaged.” <em>Stupid cannot even begin to describe what I’m doing…</em></p><p>“What the hell are you talking about, brat?”</p><p>“Sir— Levi, say it.”</p><p>Never had you called his name like that before. It was always ‘sir’, or ‘Dr. Ackerman’. He could only recall one instance in which you called him by name, and that was when you were talking with Petra about how Levi is goddamned Hitler.</p><p>“Since we’re stating stupid assumptions as facts, now,” Levi muttered, knuckles turning white from the grip he had on the file and the edge of his desk, “you’ve been looking at me like that, like you want to say something, but then you don’t because I’m goddamn Hitler. Do you think I haven’t noticed? You’re beyond shitty at hiding it, Y/N, and I don’t want to assume that…that you like me.”</p><p>Both of you were stunned; him because he couldn’t believe he admitted it, and you because you could hardly believe you heard him right. </p><p>“Then, let me correct those assumptions.” You mumbled, averting your eyes from his and getting up on your feet. Levi rose, your name at the tip of his tongue when you rounded his desk and kissed the corner of his mouth. You were aiming for his lips, but then you were too shy to do that, so you settled for his cheek and somewhere between those thoughts your lips met the corner of his.</p><p>So, you weren’t overreading into any of Levi’s subtle hints—that had to be the last coherent thought you had before Levi found himself closing his lips over yours, your drip tightening on his shoulder, his hands finding your arms to anchor to. </p><p>All too soon, you both realized you were on duty, in Levi’s office and there was a fucking window from where anyone could see what you were doing. He released you just as you released him, putting a somewhat respectable gap between yourselves. Honestly, it was a little less than respectable, but neither of you could care when your lips were still tingling from the other’s touch.</p><p>“Did I clear it?” You asked.</p><p>For a moment longer Levi’s brain seized to function, unsure if this was another one of his little fantasies he seldom found himself in when he had nothing better to do. Then, his hand brushed against yours and the doubt left him, a nod affirming your words. “I think you more than just corrected my assumptions, Y/N.”</p><p>Definitely; you hadn’t just corrected them, but confirmed them altogether. And it was safe to assume that Hanji was in for a pleasant surprise after that four-hour-long surgery tonight, unfortunately not so pleasant for Levi’s ears.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Bulletproof's | Levi x Reader</h2></a>
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      <b><em>Father!Tattooed!Levi x Mother!Reader &amp; ackerbaby (ft. Min Yoongi a.k.a SUGA)</em> </b>
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      <b> <em>Modern verse—fLuFf, kinda starts off suggestive</em> </b>
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      <b> <em>TW: um, needles? (like, for piercings)</em> </b>
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      <em><b>A/N:</b> Min Yoongi and Levi would make <b>great</b> friends. Don’t try to convince me otherwise. Also, I am <b>obsessed</b> with the name ‘Aykiz’.</em>
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    <p>—</p>
    <p>Although you were awake, the comforters wrapped around you against the cool air from the AC kept you in bed. You snuggled further into the maroon fabric, tossing your hair over your shoulder. What had roused you from sleep was nature’s call, and your mistake was washing your face before coming back to bed. The sun had risen, but neither you nor Levi cared to wake until you had no choice or you would miss your flight.  </p>
    <p>As your half braided hair thumped against the pillow, a low groan drew from your husband’s mouth. Of course, part of it had hit him instead of the pillow. Did you bother to apologize? No. Instead, you continued to pretend you were deep in slumber until you felt Levi shift. His muscular arm, painted in tendrils of black ink, wrapped around you. A sigh slipped past your lips, his brushing against your bare back, nose buried in your slightly damp hair. </p>
    <p>Once his lips planted against the skin behind your earlobe, you burst into a giggle, turning around in his arms and pushing him onto his back in one motion. Your hair, now completely unravelled, caught under Levi’s weight but you were too busy pecking his lips to care. There was something about the way Levi’s rough fingers caressed the only scar you bore as a result of childhood vaccination that made you want to stay in his hold forever.</p>
    <p>“Thought you didn’t need me to wake your ass for your flight,” Levi murmured, voice impossibly attractive from morning grogginess. </p>
    <p>“I was awake.” You defended. Levi sighed beneath you, shifting to pull your hair from under his arm. Being the sneaky little man he was, Levi didn’t miss the opportunity to kiss where your cheek met your earlobe, gently pulling on your small hoop earrings on his way back. You let out a mock ‘ow’, returning the favour and gently biting his earlobe before you met his eyes once more. “Actually, this reminds me!”</p>
    <p>“What did you forget to pack now, Y/N?” </p>
    <p>“No, no! Not packing. You have to take Aykiz to get her ears pierced. The appointment—”</p>
    <p>“—is at two. Yes, I remember.” </p>
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    <p>Just like that, within the next three hours, you disappeared behind the airport gates with Aykiz waving her goodbye to you until she couldn’t see you. Levi sat his daughter in the passenger seat as she buckled her seat belt, the material reaching her chin like a blanket, before he climbed into the driver’s seat. </p>
    <p>“Mama said we’ll go to a cat to get me earrings. How can a cat poke holes in my ears, papa?” </p>
    <p>Levi nearly threw his head back into his seat at the question. Of course, you, of all people, would say it. He put his shades on, buckling his belt as he started the engine of the car and tried to explain what you had told Aykiz. “Well, it’s not a cat, but a person that…is like a cat? Y/N likes to call him a cat.”</p>
    <p>“Oh,” Aykiz mumbled with a pout that softened Levi’s eyes behind his shades. He reached out and pat that girl’s head with a small smirk, “Don’t worry, kid. How about we get you cat-shaped earrings or something from the shop?”</p>
    <p>“Yes, like Bubbles! Or lion-shaped ones!” </p>
    <p>Oh, yes. Aykiz was definitely your daughter and shared your love for felines. She had, in fact, volunteered to take care of Bubbles—your cat—while you took care of business even though no one had brought up the subject. Aykiz had just popped her head into the kitchen this morning with Bubbles cuddled into her arms, declaring that she will take care of her mother’s beloved feline friend.</p>
    <p>“Deal.” With that, Levi pulled out of the airport’s parking and turned towards the main road. </p>
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    <p>Before Levi could, Aykiz was already pushing the glass door several times her size open. However, she stopped in her tracks upon entrance. Whether that was because some of the staff in the reception area turned towards her, or because the interior was a dark contrast to the exterior of the building, Levi didn’t know. Yet, he clasped an encouraging hand on her shoulder as he gave his name at the glossy reception desk.</p>
    <p>They were a good thirty minutes early, but with customers being rare at this hour, Levi was allowed in earlier than the appointed time. Aykiz looked around, scanning a few of the tattoo drawings on the wall before looking at Levi’s arm as if trying to match the designs. </p>
    <p>While Levi hadn’t been entirely happy with the idea of taking Aykiz to Bulletproof’s shop for her first piercing, you both knew Yoongi, so he conceded.</p>
    <p>Levi found his tattoo artist in his booth, cleaning some equipment in the far corner of the tiny room. A small selection of studs and hoops lined one of the trays on the shelf by the chair, the piercing needles on the next. </p>
    <p>“Sit over there, okay?” Levi instructed, nodding his head over to the chair. Aykiz jumped into it, already looking at her options, but not touching any of them. Yoongi glanced up, placing his tattooing equipment down to wash his hands before greeting Levi. </p>
    <p>“You getting something, too?” He asked, glancing at the tendrils of ink encasing Levi’s arm; one of Yoongi’s designs. </p>
    <p>“Not this time.” Levi retorted, glancing at his daughter engrossed in finding some cat-shaped studs. “She’ll take anything with a damn cat on it; big or small.”</p>
    <p>“Like mother, like daughter, then.” Yoongi mused, a gummy smile pulling at his lips as he took a seat. Levi followed, standing by Aykiz as he eyed the two studs Aykiz had marked by placing a finger on each. </p>
    <p>“Did you pick, Ms. Ackerman?”</p>
    <p>“I can’t choose.” Aykiz replied, the spitting image of Levi at that moment before she morphed into yours as she turned to Levi, “Papa, what do you think? This one, or this one?”</p>
    <p>“How about you take both?” Yoongi suggested, “You can wear one now, and take the other one home.”</p>
    <p>Levi crossed his arms, shrugging his shoulders at his daughter’s questioning gaze. She looked at the black cat-shaped studs, then the orange tiger ones, and then at Yoongi who gave her one of his gummy smiles, eyes crinkling.</p>
    <p>A moment more of suspicious glaring and Aykiz decided she will take Yoongi’s offer seeing as Levi left the decision to her. She chose to take the tiger studs as extras.</p>
    <p>Yoongi clapped his hands together, dampening a cotton swab with alcohol before carefully rubbing it over Aykiz’s earlobe. Then, he uncapped a pen and marked one dot on each ear, making sure they matched up. </p>
    <p>“Okay, Ms. Ackerman, this will hurt a tiny bit.” Said Yoongi, reaching for the piercing needle and making sure it was also sterile.</p>
    <p>“You can call me Aykiz if you want to.” </p>
    <p>“Looks like you’ve gained her trust,” Levi commented, taking his daughter’s hand. She was starting to look a bit nervous. Yoongi dipped his neck towards Aykiz, as if in gratitude, before telling her to be still. </p>
    <p>Levi could tell the girl was growing slightly anxious over a needle being placed too close to her ear. He squeezed her hand in his, reassuring her that it wouldn’t hurt as much as she was likely imagining. </p>
    <p>“So, Aykiz,” Yoongi asked, earning a little hum from her, “where’s your mother?”</p>
    <p>“Mama had some work to do, so—ow!” </p>
    <p>The prickly feeling had Aykiz drawing her hand to her ear, swiftly caught by Levi as Yoongi replaced the needle with one of the cat-shaped studs. “One more, okay?”</p>
    <p>When Aykiz nodded, Yoongi took a new needle and went around the chair, trading places with Levi to finish the job. He bent down, aligning the needle with the mark he’d made earlier, “You can keep talking, Aykiz.”</p>
    <p>“Mama had some work to do, so she went to Cana—ow!” </p>
    <p> “Sorry…” Yoongi muttered, replacing the needle with the second stud before standing once more. “All done!” He announced, handing Aykiz a mirror. Levi dropped his light hold on her hands, nodding to himself at the little kitty studs on his daughter’s ears, watching her tilt her head sideways to see them for herself. </p>
    <p>“Like mother, like daughter indeed.” He mused, drawing his debit card from his wallet all while watching Aykiz’s eyes light up at the new look. </p>
    <p>The two of them ended up walking out of Bulletproof’s with a pair of tiger studs, and yet another pair of identical cat studs so you and Aykiz could match—courtesy of Yoongi</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Feather Pens | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
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    <b><em>Father!Levi &amp; ackerbaby Aykiz (x reader)</em> </b>
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    <b> <em>Canon verse—pure fluffiness, cRaCk (kinda)<br/></em> </b>
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  <p><b> <em>Prompt (<a href="https://proseofpandemonium.tumblr.com/post/634287512727257088/%F0%9D%98%B1%F0%9D%98%B3%F0%9D%98%B0%F0%9D%98%AE%F0%9D%98%B1%F0%9D%98%B5-%F0%9D%98%AD%F0%9D%98%AA%F0%9D%98%B4%F0%9D%98%B5">here</a>): </em> </b> <em>“Stop it! It tickles!”</em></p>
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  <p><b> <em>A/N: </em> </b> <em>I see this happening with Levi’s kids more than the reader, okay? That, and I just love Levi being a father. Excuse my self-indulgence.</em></p>
</div><hr/><p>Exactly when Levi came home and fell asleep beside her, Aykiz had no idea. She vaguely recalled coming to you and Levi’s room after finishing her homework to leave a set of studs matching hers in one of your jewelry boxes and then finding a book on the nightstand that piqued her curiosity. </p><p>When she woke, her father was home and fast asleep beside her. For a second she wondered if he was truly asleep, poking at his ribcage a few times before concluding that it wasn’t an act. With nothing better to do, Aykiz snuggled into Levi’s side and attempted to go back to sleep. When sleep evaded her, she began tracing the tattoo on his arm—a hobby of sorts. Even when she was much younger, something about the black tendrils running up Levi’s arm made her want to draw on him. The poor man’s un-tattooed arm had suffered more than its fair share of marker drawings; even you were not spared. </p><p>When her small fingers traced the upper half, a pout squishing her lips, Levi’s mouth twitched. Aykiz paused, watching her father shift in his sleep. As far as she knew, he was a much lighter sleeper than this, but maybe taking care of her, the house and work without your help had worn him out. </p><p>It happened again, and again, and again until Levi’s eyes blinked open with a funny sound leaving his lips. That is when Aykiz caught her favourite quill-pen laying by his foot. The realization hit her like a bag of bricks: her father was, in fact, ticklish.</p><p>As soon as Levi registered his daughter sitting up at his side, he glanced at the clock. Maybe that was a mistake, because the next moment, Aykiz jumped for the pen and brushed the feathery end against his feet.</p><p>“Oi, what—” Levi’s eyes narrowed, widening as a few restrained chuckles slipped from his lips while he shied away from the pen, “<b>Stop it!</b>”</p><p>Aykiz burst into giggles as she pulled herself on her knees so she could reach further to continue her tickle attack on her father while he attempted to snatch the pen away from her. Never again would she get such a golden opportunity.</p><p>“Admit it, papa! You’re ticklish!”</p><p>“You little— brat! <b>That tickles</b>, okay? Now, stop it!” </p><p>Aykiz only stopped when Levi curled into himself enough to snatch away the pen from his daughter’s hand while she nearly fell off the bed in a fit of giggles. Needless to say, you heard all about it when you called later that night, smiling at Aykiz while Levi begrudgingly sipped his tea. You also didn’t miss the slight curl of his lips behind his cup while Aykiz attempted (and failed) at tickling him to demonstrate. He’d always have his guard up around his little girl, now.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Perfect Drink | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
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    <strong>Barista! Levi x Reader</strong>
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    <strong>Coffee shop AU—fluff (?), cRaCk</strong>
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<p><em><strong>Prompt (from </strong></em><a href="https://proseofpandemonium.tumblr.com/post/635332890057670657/100-coffee-shop-au-writing-prompts-theres"><em><strong>here</strong></em></a><em><strong>):</strong></em> 04: “my friend swears that you can pick the perfect drink for anyone but I’m skeptical because there’s no way you can look at someone and just know their order - and of course, you nail my drink!”</p>
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    <em>Impossible! </em>
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  <p>That was Sabrina’s first thought past the astonishment parting her lips, eyes wide as she looked at the spiced hot chocolate perfectly placed in the center of the table mat with brownies. Not only did Levi absolutely nail her drink, he even nailed the brownies. There was no way he could do both!</p>
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  <p>A laser-sharp glance full of suspicion was cast in your direction as Sabrina looked between you and the seemingly half-amused barista. “Y/N, you <em>had</em> to have told him!”</p>
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  <p>“Nope and the brownies are for me, actually.” You replied, eyes glimmering in amusement as you slid the plate towards yourself before Levi had the chance to place everyone’s order in front of them. While Sabrina attempted to intimidate you into saying you had indeed told Levi her order, you shrugged and bit into your brownie with your fork. When one of Levi’s co-workers gave her a ‘told-you-so’ look, she turned to Levi. He was clearly amused by this; you could read it in his slate eyes. </p>
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  <p>“<strong>My friend</strong>,” Sabrina points at you, “<strong>swears that you can pick the perfect drink for anyone but I’m skeptical because there is no way you can look at someone and just </strong><em><strong>know</strong></em><strong> their order —</strong>” She pauses to look at her drink again as if to make sure it was still there and exactly what she’d order before meeting Levi’s eyes again, “<strong>And of course, you nail my drink!</strong>”</p>
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  <p>For the record, you had never told Levi Sabrina’s drink just like no one had told him yours the day you stumbled into <em>The Scouts’</em> one drizzly Sunday afternoon, tired and looking for an iced mint tea with something sweet to satisfy your craving sweet tooth. You had first been caught off guard by Levi’s appearance from the back door of the cafeteria; he was trying his black apron behind his back as he took his place behind the counter, giving you a quick once over. You had only picked a blueberry cheesecake for yourself when he interrupted you with the exact order you had thought of while looking at the menu. </p>
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  <p>Needless to say, your jaw hit the floor like a bag of flour as you stuttered out a ‘Yes, um, thank you’, intimidated by Levi’s stare. He drew you to the cafeteria again; you were curious if he could guess your drink right once more. And, he did so down to the cinnamon in it. The same occurrence came about when you visited a third time and that was how you came to be a regular at the store. </p>
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  <p>By now, Levi was used to you coming into the café, smiling that knowing smile of yours and watching him brew your drink. However, this was the first time you brought company—a few friends of yours who claimed your encounters with Levi were coincidental only to be proven wrong. </p>
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  <p>An instrumental tune vibrated through the cozy air as Levi’s lips barely curled upwards, eyes meeting yours as you continued to chew on your brownie. He looked from you to Sabrina, then back, “I suppose you should trust your friend a little more, then.”</p>
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  <p>With that, he placed the others’ order in front of them, picking up the tray and returning behind the counter to attend to more customers, guessing each of their drinks. </p>
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  <p>You had asked how he did it one night when it was only you and a few other customers. It was around closing time then, and Levi had picked your spoon from the saucer, swirling it in your cups once before meeting your eyes and telling you it was magic. Normally, you’d crack a smile or a chuckle at the idea, but he had said it with such solemnity lining his voice, you would have believed him had you not known better.</p>
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  <p>So, when you left with your friends in tow, you left him a sizeable tip like you always did—only this time Sabrina had her own tips to leave for Levi to find.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Perfect Drink II | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
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  <p>
    <b>
      <em>Barista!Levi x Reader</em>
    </b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>Coffee Shop AU—fluff</em>
    </b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em><b>Prompt (from <a href="https://proseofpandemonium.tumblr.com/post/635332890057670657/100-coffee-shop-au-writing-prompts-theres">here</a>):</b> 08:  “I know you’re about to close and I swear I’ll give you a $20 tip, can you please just take my order? I’ve had the worst day possible.”</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em><b>A/N: </b>Where did I take this? I have no idea.</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <hr/>
</div><p>Closing time had never been so dreadful for you as you scrambled to lock your car, not bothering to take your coat from the backseat despite the cold burning against your skin. You told yourself the cafeteria would warm your freezing self if only you hurried and reached the doors before one of the employees flipped the signs. </p><p>A part of you prayed Levi was on duty tonight as you half ran down the sidewalk. You knew he’d take one look at you and already know what you wanted like he had so many times before for you and other customers. </p><p>Seeing Levi taking out the trash—clad in his uniform and a pair of rubber gloves— might just be the best thing you’ve seen today. Yes, your day had been absolutely horrific. And, it wasn’t the regular kind of horrific where you missed the bus and reached your class or workplace late. It was the kind of horrorific that made you genuinely want to chop someone’s head off if it were not for the fact that it would only cause more trouble for you. </p><p>Levi caught you, successfully preventing you from hurling both yourself and him into the trash can just as he turned to head back into the cafeteria. You muttered out a ‘thank you’, catching your breath as the man raised a thin brow at you. </p><p>“I know you’re about to close and I swear I’ll give you a $20 tip! Can you please take my order?” Levi hardly seemed convinced by your bribe, and you found yourself mentally cursing at the idea. You should’ve known by now he would be the last person you can bribe with twenty dollars.  </p><p>“Come on,” Levi droned, pushing the door of the cafeteria open, the sign reading ‘closed’ facing the glass door. “How does hot chocolate sound?”</p><p>“Like heaven, really.” You reply with the dreamiest of smiles; you’re sure Levi Ackerman is a heaven-sent remedy for your troubles. </p><p>As promised, he let you in despite it being past closing hours and whipped up a cup of hot chocolate for you. You take it graciously, sipping the warm drink and nearly drowning in the flavour and texture of it. Levi stood behind the counter, cracking the tiniest of smiles as you hummed in delight. </p><p>“Maybe you should hire me.” You mutter, setting the cup down as you look at Levi. He furrows his brows, leaning on his elbows against the countertop, “Shitty boss?”</p><p>You can’t help the chuckle bubbling from your throat. Shaking your head, you take another sip from your pristine white cup before correcting Levi. “It’s not that. It’s not university either. It’s just…me.”</p><p>Met with silence, you stare into your cup, swirling it as if it could make your reflection look different. Levi contemplates prying because he has never particularly like that sad glint in your eyes, but decides against it because it’s none of his damn business. You’re here to get forget about the day you’ve had and he’d rather not ask you to relive whatever it is unless you choose to.</p><p>“Take a break, kid. Don’t wear your ass off with whatever it is.” That’s all Levi says, drawing a smile to your face. You gulp down the rest of your drink and, for a second, Levi is genuinely concerned you will choke yourself. Then, you flip open your wallet, place the price of the drink on the counter along with that 20$ tip you promised.</p><p>“I’ll consider it. Thank you, Levi.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Hearth | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b><em>Modernverse</em></b>—<em>fluff (tooth-rotting fluff for a dear friend; hopefully it’s sweet enough, I tried)</em></p>

<p></p><div>
  <p>Listening to <b><em>Stars</em></b> by <em>Skillet</em> while writing this.</p>
</div><div>
  <hr/>
</div><p>It was winter’s charm, you had concluded, to make everything beautiful when it wouldn’t be otherwise. Levi could see where you were coming from; winter was the season when the surroundings died yet the cover of sparkling white made it look so much purer, breathtaking even, than the blackness associated with death; the sun that never ‘died’ seemed to do just that with its dimming light, shorter hours and somehow <em>cold</em> warmth. Yet you saw it as an opportunity to make use of Levi’s warmth; he did run much warmer than you did.</p>
<p>“How the fuck are you any different from a fucking icicle?” Levi grumbled as you curled your (cold-ass) toes under his arm on the sofa, drawing an amused chuckle from your lips that nearly pushed the last of your tea up your nose. You take a final swig, reaching your arm out to place the cup next to your phone which you can’t be bothered to pay attention to even as music bursts from the speaker.</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t be laying your head on an icicle’s lap, Levi.” You counter, nails scratching along the edges of his shaved head before your fingers disappeared into the black tresses. </p>
<p>“It’s the blanket, Y/N. Without it, your ass would turn into an icicle.” Said Levi, readjusting his head in your lap, turning on his side to face the crackling fire in the hearth. Steely eyes continued scanning over the paper he removed from the thin folder, some reports from work he needs to go over. </p>
<p>You couldn’t help it, not with the way the firelight danced along his cheek that wasn’t pressed against your thigh; you just had to lean down and kiss the slightly dry skin. Levi’s gaze shifted from the paper in hand to your shyly averted gaze but he caught the way you bit your lower lip. Then, you met his eyes and raised a brow, “Still an icicle, am I?”</p>
<p>“Mhm,” He hums his affirmation, returning his gaze to the report. He quickly skims over the rest of it then places it back into the file and removed himself from your lap. You pout at that, fingers chasing after his hair until he sits upright. Your chagrin hardly ever goes unnoticed by Levi; he’s quick to notice the little changes in your moods without you ever needing to speak of them.</p>
<p>He pulls the blanket from the backrest of the couch, flinging it over his legs before pulling you closer with an arm around your shoulders. You get the memo, tossing your hair over the opposite shoulder as Levi’s head comes to rest against your shoulder, your hand taking his form atop the blanket. His cheek presses into your neck like your ear presses into his soft tresses, fingers tracing the lines on his palm while he holds it open for you. Levi isn’t a touchy person; in fact, he’s easily irritated by it. However, there’s something about <em>yours</em>, in particular, that seems to magnetically drain all of his irritations. He won’t fight against it, ever. </p>
<p>The song changes in the background and you sigh into Levi’s hair; you love this one. He knows it and he’s envious of whoever wrote it. You lift your head from him, fingers tracing up his wrist now and Levi misses the weight but does not protest when it’s replaced by your fingers. </p>
<p>“You put vanilla in the tea?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. You like sweet shit.” He murmurs in reply, too peaceful in your hold to use his usually harsh tone. His words are still monotoned, but snow soft, and just like him it makes you feel warm.</p>
<p>A shiver runs through you, and you scoot closer to Levi, tossing your hair away from his face. His hold loosens, dropping to your waist as reaches over for your phone, putting the song on repeat, feeling you shudder again. “Are you shivering?” He asked, replacing the phone by your empty cup.</p>
<p>“Not really,” You mutter taking his hand once more. He wraps it around yours, warming your icy fingers as he watches the snow begin to fall outside the window. Levi is mildly surprised you haven’t insisted on going out and playing around in the snow because he knows how much you adore it. He can hardly complain when you’re scooting even closer to him.</p>
<p>Levi lifts his head again and this time you huff in protest, however, you’re silenced by his lips against yours. It’s rare; Levi initiating kisses. You melt against his lips anyway, hands pressed against his sweater softened pecs. You don’t understand what it is that’s making his lips move against yours the way they are; so slow and soft that you’re unsure if he’s hesitating or not but firm enough to rid your mind of its ability to wander anywhere that’s not the feel of his lips in yours. You don’t realize when Levi has pulled you to lay down with him until your foot hits the center table where Levi’s files rest. That’s what breaks the kiss. You would have chased his lips all over again if it weren’t for his fingers carding through your hair and that smile on his face; <em>that God sent angelic smile. </em></p>
<p>“Are you blushing or cold?” He murmurs against your lips, thumb tracing over your surely rosy cheeks.</p>
<p>“I don’t know. Maybe both.”</p>
<p>You don’t know how long the two of stay like that; Levi cradling your cheeks, you staring like a love-struck puppy, but he’s the one to break the reverie. </p>
<p>“It’s past midnight. Maybe you should get to bed or some shit because you bet your ass that eccentric will be here first thing in the morning.” You crack a laugh at his referring to Hanji; they do show up earlier than everyone else when it first snows. </p>
<p>“I don’t wanna!” You whine, like a child, shuffling so you’re pressed between the backrest of the sofa and Levi’s side. Head cradled in his neck to press kisses to the back of his ear, his neck and cheek and Levi says nothing as he turns to face you, fixing the blanket over both of you. He knows you’ll fall asleep here having seen it countless times because he rarely ever falls asleep before you do, and he can’t quite find it in him to complain when he’s comfortable burying his nose into your hair, pulling his legs slightly upwards in case you need a bit more wiggle room.</p>
<p>The song is still humming in the background but all you focus on is the other’s warmth—well, Levi’s <em>shared</em> warmth. These are the rare little moments you’ll never forget, but you still write them in your little journal like you’ll forget them. Levi knows it, too, but neither of you can be bothered to think about that when the first snow is falling outside and the fire is crackling in your hearth and your phone’s battery is coming to an end along with the song. But that’s okay because Levi’s still humming the tune and keeping you warmer than any fire could ever dare to. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Careless Whisper | Jean Kistein x Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>Barista!Jean x Student!Reader</em>
  </b>
</p>

<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <b>
      <em>Coffee Shop AU—flangst (fluff + angst)</em>
    </b>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em><b>Prompt (from <a href="https://proseofpandemonium.tumblr.com/post/635332890057670657/100-coffee-shop-au-writing-prompts-theres">here</a>):  01: “</b>clearly you’re going through a bad breakup because this playlist is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard and I’m begging you please change it.<b>”</b></em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <hr/>
  <p>
    <b></b>
  </p>
</div><p>Never had you wanted to murder a manager for hiring a certain employee—one of your friends, at that—than you did right now when the trumpet notes hit your ear for the umpteenth time tonight. This time, it was a metal cover but the same song. Who in the name of <em>Pytha-fucking-gora’s</em> had decided to leave Jean Kirstein in-charge of music, especially when the guy had just broken up?</p>
<p>You came to the café in order to get away from your roommate who had coincidentally also broken up with her boyfriend. You’d expected Jean to be there, knowing it was time for his shift, and you had expected a few angsty tunes—maybe even a whole playlist. That, you could’ve lived with. What you couldn’t stand was every existing cover of <em>Careless Whisper</em> in the background when you have a date with trigonometry and calculus first thing in the morning tomorrow. </p>
<p>Your third venti Turkish coffee was placed on the counter and you wasted no time in grabbing Jean’s hand. From what he had told you, it was a mutual break-up; neither of them was happy with the other so it made sense that they parted ways. Yet Jean was here sulking like he’d been dumped by the love of his life instead. Any other day you would have overlooked it and let him do as he pleased even if seeing him practically grieve over someone else cracked your heart the tiniest bit. However, not today. Because, indeed, <em>time could never mend the careless<b>ness</b></em> because this was your final test. If you screwed this up, you could kiss your degree goodbye. </p>
<p>“<b>Clearly, you’re going through a bad breakup because this playlist is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m begging you, <em>please,</em> change it.</b>” You pleaded, meeting Jean’s sullen eyes with a plea in your own. He nodded, pulling his hand away from yours as he shuffled away and changed the song to yet another cover of Careless Whisper; this time the Boyce Avenue cover. You nearly burst, furiously swallowing the sip you had meant to test the coffee’s temperature with. </p>
<p>“Jean!”</p>
<p>“What? You told me to change the song—”</p>
<p>“Yes, the <em>song</em>.” You emphasize, dropping your pencil and not bothering to pick it up, “Like, the <em>actual song</em>, not the cover. I can’t really focus here so, please.”</p>
<p>“Why? Who’d you break up with?”</p>
<p>“Jean, I’m going to break up with my goddamn degree if I cannot study for this test.”</p>
<p>Grimace tugging on his lips, Jean complied with your request and you thanked him, continuing to study late into the night until it was near closing time. </p>
<p>You waited for Jean; there was an itch in you to make sure he was doing alright. He found you by the back exit you knew he took on his way home, offering you a small smile as the two of you fell into a silent walk. Jean had taken the road to your place, you noticed, and it made you somewhat glad because it was further than his. </p>
<p>“Got nothing to say tonight, Kirstein? Cat got your tongue?” You muttered; your voice without any humour in it. You rounded the corner, Jean meeting your eyes with a dry chuckle; it was the kind that widened the crack in your heart.</p>
<p>In silence, he walked you all the way to your apartment where you decided to break the seal on your lips.</p>
<p>“If it helps at all…” You muttered, fighting the blush that was rising to your cheeks. At least it was cold and you could use that as an excuse. Part of you wished for him to be dense enough to take your words platonically, the other wished he saw through it. Regardless, like your tongue had a mind of its own, you said it, “I like you. A lot.”</p>
<p>Jean paused at your doorstep; you did too. You bit your lower lip, nerves tingling as he stared at you. Had you meant it as a friend, or something more, Jean wasn’t sure. He couldn’t tell which he’d prefer either. </p>
<p>When a car whizzed past the two of you, a gush of wind following, you broke out of your reverie and hesitantly took a step closer to him. He watched you, puzzled as you cradled his face in your palm, squishing his cheeks like you had so many times before. He said nothing as you press a kiss to his cheek and step away with the darkest blush he had ever seen on you. </p>
<p>Several beats of silence passed between you and you were sure you made a mistake. Jean, on the other hand, was trying to read this right. He found he wanted it to mean more than something platonic. When the last ounce of your patience had run out, you turned away to take shelter in your apartment. As you fished out your keys in a hurry, Jean called after you.</p>
<p>Freezing, you looked over your shoulder at him fidgetting with his own fingers as a blush came to his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t made a mistake…</p>
<p>“We can, um, go out? On Sunday? I-If you’re free, of course.” Jean muttered, hating the way his voice grew smaller and smaller. Why couldn’t he be as bold as you? </p>
<p>“Pick me up around six, then?”</p>
<p>The last time you had seen Jean’s face split in a smile like that was when he finally beat Eren in a fight. He beamed at you and nodded his head so hard, you almost feared he’d throw it off his own shoulders. That was until he replied with a rather loud, “I will, I will!” </p>
<p>Well, maybe speaking your mind was the best thing you could have done.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Midnight Confusion | Jean Kirstein x Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <em>Careless Whisper II (It fit, okay?)</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Modern AU—fluff</em>
  </b>
</p><hr/><p>When Jean had asked you on that date about half a week ago, you hadn’t expected the memes he usually sent you to morph into deep thoughts about love and the like—especially not at one-thirty a.m. in the night. You had nearly fallen asleep again for the nth time when your phone buzzed in your hands. It fell on your face when you jolted from the bout of sleep that had washed over you in wait for Jean to finish typing. </p><p>Groaning aloud, you pried the screen from your face and rubbed your poor, sore nose while blinking away the little tears that formed in the corner of your eyes upon impact. You read the last text he’d sent and nearly all sleep drained from you along with the colour from your face.</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“I read your diary.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>Your response was near frantic:</p><p>
  <em>“When? What did you read?”</em>
</p><p>The string of laughing emojis that came as a reply relieved you. However, they also made you want to throw something—anything—at Jean even though he was halfway across the globe at the moment; that was the reason you hadn’t gone on that date he’d promised you. The next message made you pause in your uncouth screaming, face raising from the pillow it was buried into.</p><p>
  <em>“So you DO write a diary”</em>
</p><p><em>Holy shit. </em>Was this his intention all along? Jean couldn’t have possibly known you did, in fact, write a diary but he might have had his suspicions which you just seemed to have confirmed. The thought made you want to burn all of your journals so he could never find the pages that were littered with abnormal amounts of <em>him. </em>It wasn’t intentional, but you only now realized how in-depth you had gone describing every minuscule feeling every stupid thing Jean did give you. </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“Stop texting me weird stuff in the middle of the night. Sleep.” </em>
  </b>
</p><p>That was the last thing you were able to send him before your phone betrayed you, its battery drained. Yes, you plugged in your phone but when you now turned on your stomach to check why it wasn’t charging you saw that the button was flipped to off. Screaming into your pillow once again, you slicked the switch on and tossed your phone onto the nightstand in favour of cuddling your blanket. You would be sleepy during your lecture tomorrow for sure but you couldn’t quite complain when it was <em>your </em>choice to stay up so late to speak with Jean.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Blueberry Le'Mint | Levi Ackerman x Reader</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b><em>Sick! Levi x Reader</em> </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em><b>Canon verse—fluff, slight NSFW </b>(if you squint)</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em><b>Prompt (from <a href="https://proseofpandemonium.tumblr.com/post/637406005644460032/cold-weather-sentence-starters">here</a>): </b>“Your favourite winter drink was back on the menu, so I got it for you.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em><b>A/N: </b>I recently got very, very sick and was craving some winter drinks so...inspired by that, I suppose. Enjoy!</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>You had always questioned it, albeit in your head only; <em>does Captain Levi ever get sick?</em> It was a question that invaded your brain during an infinitely boring training session you had back when Levi had first joined the Scouts. You’d met him and his two friends, Isabel and Farlan, about a year or two ago and by then Levi was captain—a rank especially made for the man. However, you had never had the will to question his immunity, concluding it had to be strong enough to survive in the underground in addition to his impeccable cleanliness. </p>
<p>And then, you’d thought about it again after years when you got sick, and Levi—now our man—practically ordered you take the day off and recuperate from both your injuries, a result of the last expedition, and the nasty cold that had you sneezing left and right. That day you sat in the ladies’ barracks the whole day with an occasional visit from one of your friends save for lunch and dinner for which Levi accompanied you.</p>
<p>After nearly a decade, you find your answer—however unclear—when you wake in Levi’s bed with him snuggled into the blankets next to you. It is hardly unusual for you to wake in his bed but what is strange is that Levi’s still in bed when the room is lit by the dimmest of winter sunlight. Propping yourself on your elbow, you know the captain isn’t asleep when he shifts likewise to face you, eyes closed with an expression you can’t quite pin, somewhere between the stoic one he usually wears and irritation. Levi has always run warm—you assumed that being a product of titan science, the high body temperature of the titans had to have adjusted in this way within the Ackermans—but when you reach out to brush aside the black bangs that have fallen over his eyes, he feels warm<em>er</em>, close to burning up.</p>
<p>Levi grunts lowly at your touch, peeling his eyes open then taking your hand to clasp in his own. Again, you feel the heat radiating from his skin wondering if it’s just warm today but the sight of snow falling beyond the window of the bedroom tells you otherwise. You sit up, hand leaving Levi’s as his eyes fully open, head raised slightly off the pillow while you pull your hair up and secure it with a clip. The blanket falls from your body in haste but modesty be damned right now. </p>
<p>Just as you throw his shirt—the one he’s just taken off and folded, a bit too tight for you—over your body for the sake of the weather and stalk over to his side, Levi sits up. He looks irritated and you know he doesn’t like being made a fuss over, however, you can’t quite help it. You attempt to push him back into bed, “Levi, no, you have a fever! Let me get a—”</p>
<p>He clicks his tongue, feeling his own forehead as if checking because he felt alright. Then again, he might’ve written it off as exhaustion, and he tells you just that with a click of his tongue, “Just tired.” In an attempt to, perhaps, stop your fussing, Levi tugs you closer by the hips, head coming to rest against you while his thumb slips under the fabric at your hips.</p>
<p>“Levi…” You murmur, running a hand through his hair. </p>
<p>“I’m fine, just this shitty headache.” He mumbles into you. You’d never expected Levi to sound so much like, well, a child. It’s not his tone, just the way he sounds like he’s pouting as he holds you.</p>
<p>“Do you have’ta work so much? You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” </p>
<p>“Fucking did,” He holds three of his fingers up to your face, “Three fucking hours.”  </p>
<p>“Breakfast isn’t anytime soon, why don’t you try to get a few more in?” You know he won’t, and you also know it’s pointless trying to get Levi to stay in bed over something as trivial (to him) as a fever. He’ll get the job done with a tad more strictness that came from the irritation with the fever. Yet, you still tried.</p>
<p>“Right,” He lifts his head from your chest, meeting your still-sleepy eyes, “You have that appointment shit in town. The fuck possessed you to set it so damn early?”</p>
<p>Oh, yes. That appointment shit. It wasn’t just that you need to get your hair cut, there were several small errands you had to take care of before you returned to headquarters. You had no drills until noon and made sure to take care of your share of paperwork last night before making your way to Levi. Now, you were considering cancelling the appointment altogether and save the errands for another day when Levi didn’t have a fever. One thing was for sure, not many people would notice he was sick for he kept his composure and hardly anyone had the guts to touch the captain.</p>
<p>Levi picked up on your train of thought when met with your silence, choosing to take your advice if it’d keep you from worrying. He drops his hold on you, allowing his torso to crash back into bed as he looked up at you, “Go. I’ll get some rest as you said.”</p>
<p>“You sure?”</p>
<p>He hummed his affirmation, shooing you away with a wave of his hand whilst readjusting himself in bed. Your hesitation is evident in the way you linger by his side but both of you know Levi could take care of himself. Still, you decide you’ll get your hair cut, leave the errands for another day and return home as soon as you can to help Levi with the stacks of paperwork you were sure he’d have. </p>
<hr/>
<p>When you return, slipping into the room with a firm knock characteristic to you, Levi is at his desk in full uniform scribbling away. You don’t make a comment on it, but you hope he did get some rest. He already knows it’s you but his steely eyes leave his paperwork to meet yours anyway; whether to see what you’ve done with your hair or because of the lemon-minty scent of the drink in your hand, you don’t know.</p>
<p>Levi’s cup is empty, the dried stain of tea on porcelain evidence that it has been that way for a while now. He scans over your new look before his eyes find the drink in your hand. </p>
<p>“Blueberry Le’Mint. Your favourite winter drink was back on the menu,” You take his empty cup and replace it with a new one, pouring the steaming drink into it, “so I got it for you.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Levi murmurs, fingers dropping his pen to pinch a section of your freshly cut hair. </p>
<p>“Do you feel better?” You ask, stripping off your cloak before taking the seat in front of him, motioning towards his head. The fever would take a while, but you hoped the headache had subsided. If not, maybe the tea would help. </p>
<p>Levi takes a sip, savouring the tart, rich flavour of blueberry mixed with black tea, holding the cup by the rim. Satisfied, he hums. <br/>“Less shitty.” He replies, picking his pen back up as you lean your head against your palm, smiling at his words, “Good.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Christmas Glitter (NSFW) | Levi Ackerman Birthday Special (2020)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This chapter contains NSFW content. The same, exact fic is available without NSFW in the following chapter for minors and those who feel uncomfortable reading NSFW. Thank you!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> <b>Levi x Reader [ft. Kuchel &amp; Aykiz Ackerman]</b> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <b>Modern verse—fluff, NSFW inclusive</b> </em>
</p><p><b> <em>TW: </em> </b> <em>swearing, mentions of getting stuck in a tree (?), mentions of Levi’s insomnia, sex (duh), Switch! Levi, Switch! Reader, edging, (slight) fingering, rough sex, soft sex, thigh riding, the ‘Captain’ kink, possible-whiplash—I think that’s all??? </em></p><p><b> <em>A/N: </em> </b> <em>t</em> <em>here is an SFW ver. of this in the next chapter! Also, Levi’s much taller in this fic than he is in the anime because the guy actually got proper nutrition this time and this might give you whiplash cause...you’ll see.</em> <b></b></p><hr/><p>Did you enjoy the season because it snowed, because it was the holiday season or because it was Levi’s birthday? Who knew? Maybe it was all three situations combined. Your husband marked it as yet another day in the year; he just happened to be born the same day, nothing particularly special in his eyes. However, he allowed you the luxury of celebrating his existence as you pleased so long as it did not involve a crowd. He was, in fact, pleased that his birthday landed in the holiday season every year; the main reason being that he didn’t have to spend it at work receiving birthday wishes from people he hardly knew. Levi’s circle was carefully filtered down to a few people that actually knew his birthdate and he liked it that way instead of a fuss being created over it. Christmas was fussy enough as it was.</p><p>Aykiz, however, would never miss an opportunity to make a ‘fuss’ over it. She knew well she was welcomed to do so because Levi found himself bemused by his daughter’s little antics. Surely, she could make a fuss over his birthday and get away with it. Still, you weren’t sure if Aykiz could make a fuss and a mess and still get away with it. As you work on the custard in the kitchen, turning the stove down once the mixture begins to simmer, Aykiz sits on a stool by the island, littering glitter all over the marble. </p><p>She told you that she needed to make some finishing touches to her card nearly thirty minutes ago but it seemed like the girl has changed her mind altogether. A random tune bursts from the speaker of your laptop set above the unused microwave, a song that was hardly appropriate for Christmas, but your attention is divided between your daughter and the bowl in front of you. </p><p>“Aykiz,” You call. She hums in response, brows furrowed as her gloved fingers brush away the excess glitter, scattering red and green sparkles all over the kitchen island. “You should start cleaning up. Levi will be coming home any minute now.” </p><p>Levi went to pick Kuchel from her house, the matter insisted upon by Aykiz. Now, your mother in law is more than capable of bringing herself to your house; all of you know this. Regardless, Levi had called his mother last night and told her he’d be the one picking her up so he could pretend to have no idea about whatever preparations Aykiz needs to make for his birthday. Of course, he knows she’s brewing something up and that this is her best excuse to keep him out of the house until she is finished. Aykiz did the same for your birthday, and Levi was in on it. How could he not know?</p><p>“Don’t worry, ‘m almost finished,” Aykiz mumbles in reply, knocking the folded paper against the edge of the island to make sure all of the excess glitter is gone. “Worry about getting ready! You haven’t even changed yet!”</p><p>Well, you can hardly argue with that. Yes, you have yet to change out of your pyjamas but that is all you have to do. There isn’t much you intend to do with your hair, and the minimal amount of make-up was already taken care of. With a shake of your head, you mix the butter and vanilla into the custard then pour into a dish and set it in the fridge to cool. With a pat to Aykiz’s head and a now-muted laptop in your hand, you leave to change out of your pyjamas. Junior, your cat, is slumbering away in its own little corner of the room as you brush through your hair and part it as you see fit. Just as you reapply your tinted lip balm, the ding of the bell echoes around the house. For a second you wonder if Levi forgot his keys. Then, you chuckle to yourself realizing that’s his way of giving Aykiz a sign to hide her little present under the Christmas tree by the hearth. Aykiz scrambles to do exactly that as you stalk over to the gate, unlocking it and pulling it open.</p><p>Your mother in law, Kuchel, greets you with a warm hug as Levi closes the door behind him, taking Kuchel’s bag of presents and setting it aside neatly. Aykiz is behind you, crushing Kuchel in a bear hug the moment you part from her—not that Kuche minds. As Aykiz leads Kuchel into the house after she’s taken off her shoes, you and Levi follow. </p><p>You’re about to part ways with them to set up the table when Levi’s hand on the small of your back stops you. “Sit. I’ll take it from here.” When no argument comes from your end, Levi disappears into the kitchen and you take a seat next to Kuchel and Aykiz who’s chatting away with her grandmother about a novel both of them have read. You’ve read it, too, so you join in while Levi sets up the table.</p><hr/><p>“That tree was huge. I managed to climb it and get the cat but I didn’t know how to get down!” Kuchel pauses, taking a sip of the Blueberry Le’Mint tea sitting in front of her on the table. Aykiz sits on the rug with Junior in her lap, too engrossed in the story, idly mixing honey that has long dissolved into her cup. </p><p>“Did you jump down, then? Did the poor cat get hurt, too?” You ask, motioning back to the scar that had started the whole ordeal. After dinner came tea and custard. Kuchel had rolled up her sleeves so they wouldn’t accidentally dip into the food when Aykiz saw the scar and asked how it came to be on her person. You knew there and then it was story time, making yourself comfortable beside Levi on the couch as the sun began to set and Junior prowled out of your bedroom.</p><p>Kuchel nods her head in affirmation, placing her cup back on its saucer, “When the cat managed to climb down and left, I began crying so loud, <em>‘Help me get down, help me get down!’</em>. Kenny heard me and came to find me.”</p><p>“I see why the migratory birds changed their course, ma.” Levi drawls, cracking a smile. Aykiz looks over her shoulder at him, then at Kuchel with wide eyes, “Really?!”</p><p>“Who knows?” She shrugs, smiling down at Aykiz, “I was just grateful Kenny found me, but he said he won’t help me even when I promised to do whatever he wanted. He said, <em>‘If I help you now, what will you do tomorrow? Get back down the way you got up.’</em> I threw my shoe at him when he walked away.”</p><p>“So, uncle Kenny didn’t help you at all?” Aykiz asks, incredulous. Beside you, Levi murmurs something about Kenny being born an asshole, taking his cup by the rim to sip his tea. You roll your eyes, secretly agreeing with him as you recall the first few times you’d met Kenny as Kuchel clicked her tongue as if to say no. She took another gulp of tea before continuing, “In the end, I got down by myself. I mean, I did have two broken fingers and a bleeding wound, but that’s no big deal.”</p><p>While you hide your laugh behind your cup, Levi’s murmuring behind his about Kenny <em>really</em> being a bastard and Aykiz is smiling ear to ear at her Ku-ma’s stories. Sooner than your daughter would appreciate it, Kuchel gives each of you a present—you a book because you love her recommendations, Aykiz a gigantic box of markers, and Levi a box full of home-grown tea she knows he loves. It’s not that she doesn’t like presents, Aykiz adores them; it’s just that it means Kuchel will be going home in a few minutes and she doesn’t want her to go. It is evident in the way she sets Junior down on the carpet.</p><p>By the time all of you are done exchanging presents, Aykiz realizes she hasn’t given Levi the box of chinas she’s spent hours wrapping. She leaves her stack of presents, pulls her little box with a ridiculously glittery card on it from under the tree and jogs over to Levi, “You don’t celebrate your birthday, but I still wanted to give you this. Happy birthday, papa!”</p><p>Levi swears he’s smiling abnormally wide as he takes the box from his daughter, glitter from their scarves on his card drawing caking both their hands. He kneels and kisses her forehead with a soft, ‘Thank you, moon’ and you can feel your heart melting all over again in your chest as Aykiz loops her arms around Levi’s neck. Kuchel coos beside you, a hand placed over your shoulder in silent gratitude for bringing more colour to her son’s life. You know she adores you as much as she does him, and perhaps she adores Aykiz more than both of you, but you can’t find it in you to say anything as Levi’s eyes meet yours with the same gratitude Kuchel’s touch has.  </p><p>When they part, Aykiz is smiling as wide as she possibly can and even though Levi’s smile has shrunk, you can feel the warmth in his chest through the sparkle in his eyes. That’s all you could ask for on Christmas.</p><p>“Papa, can’t Ku-ma stay tonight?” Aykiz says, looking from her father to Kuchel. It’s not that she can’t, but she has a flight tomorrow morning and she hasn't brought her luggage with her. Levi meets his mother’s eyes with a question, knowing neither of them wants to part just yet. Kuchel hasn’t visited as often thanks to this new project she has going so you both know Aykiz misses her even if the girl doesn’t mention it as much.</p><p>“My girl, I want to but Ku-ma has to catch a flight tomorrow morning. I would’ve brought my suitcase if I knew beforehand.” Kuchel coos, accepting the pouty hug Aykiz gives her as she meets eyes with the two of you. Then, she pulls away from Aykiz and grins as if she’s just had the best idea ever; and she has, “How about you come home with me and I can drop you home on my way to the airport? What do you say?”</p><p>Aykiz hardly needs to give it a second thought. Before you know it, she’s already nodding her head eagerly and running off to pack a night bag for herself. You exchange a glance with Levi, and you’re both waiting for your daughter to leave the room so you can make sure it’s not too much trouble for Kuchel. Aykiz isn’t a handful, but dropping her home in time to catch a plane is another story. Just as Aykiz leaves, she scurries back to take her presents and set them in her room—the organizer genes are definitely Levi’s; you’re hardly as efficient. </p><p>“Ma, are you sure?” Levi says when he’s sure Aykiz is out of earshot. Kuchel pats his shoulder for reassurance; she's sure she wants her granddaughter to herself for one night. What she's even more sure of is that you two could use some time alone, too. It's a win-win situation for both parties so why not? </p><p>You excuse yourself to pack the two of them some leftovers from the dinner to save Kuchel the trouble of making breakfast, then double-check Aykiz has kept everything she needs and fetch Levi's keys before returning to the living room where Aykiz skips over to Kuchel's bag with Junior in her arms, meowing.</p><p>Finally, when Kuchel returns from the restroom, the three settle into Levi’s car while you lock the door. He’s waiting in the driver’s seat for you when you climb into the passenger’s, Kuchel and Aykiz in the back. Once all of your seat belts are secured, Levi ignites the engine and pulls out of the driveway. A shiver runs through you and you realize your sweater is too thin to be out of the house like this. Turning up the heating, Levi glances at you. </p><p>“Es-ma, are you cold?” Aykiz chirps from the backseat. You don’t want her to worry over you, so you reach back and pat her knee with a shake of your head. Kuchel offers you her coat; her sweater is enough to keep her warm with the heating Levi’s just turned up. You politely refuse, saying you should get used to the chill for the ride back when you reach the red light on the crossroad. </p><p>Frost melts against the warmed windshield making Levi click his tongue and turn the wipers on to clear some of it. He can catch you shivering every once in a while while you chat with Kuchel, prompting him to unbuckle his belt, lean forward and—with some effort—strip himself of his overcoat. You pause to protest when he drapes the fabric over you like a blanket, taking the belt with his free hand before returning the other form you to the steering wheel, the light green for go now.</p><p>After dropping Kuchel and Aykiz off at her place, the two of you return home with you still snuggling into Levi’s coat until you return it. He takes it, disappearing into your room to hand it in his side of the closet while you take to cleaning the glitter that’s left scattered around the kitchen island. Aykiz cleans well enough, just not as well as you or Levi.</p><p>You hear Levi take care of the leftover dishes without complaint, snapping his gloves and apron on. He’s finished in time for you to dump the last of the extra glitter in the bin, “Go. I’ll finish up here, yeah?”</p><p>“We need to teach Aykiz to clean her own damn messes when she gets back.” With that, Levi’s off to wash up when you stop him by taking his hand. He turns to face you, watching as you step closer and cup his face in your cool hands, “Happy birthday, you grumpy cat.” You murmur before sealing his lips with yours; Levi’s favourite birthday wish. When you pull away, to Levi’s dismay, he has to go wash up. You do the same, using the brush in the spare bathroom instead before you return to your bedroom. </p><p>Your husband’s face is buried in a towel, eyes peeking over the fuzzy material and his entire being freezes when his eyes land on you. For a moment, you’re confused, closing the door behind you before you realize exactly what he’s staring at.</p><p>“Levi, I know I have glitter all over me, but—”</p><p>“You had glitter in your hair the day I married you.” </p><p>And you have nothing to say because you <em>did</em> have glitter in your hair on your wedding day. It hadn't been a ridiculous amount but there was enough for your hair to glimmer every time you turned your head and Levi still remembers the oddly pleasant feeling pouring into him like warm tea. </p><p>Then, he's reaching his hand out to brush the red glitter clinging to your hair. He takes the chance to pull you into him, pressing his lips to your hairline in a soft kiss. You place your elbows on his shoulders, fingers toying with the hair that falls close to his nape as he pulls away to look at you with words on the tip of his tongue. You already know what they are, and it makes you smile, as you look up at him with crinkling eyes. “It was for you,” you mused, “you couldn't stop touching my hair when Hanji glittered it back in university, remember?”</p><p>How could he forget? You'd walked into that bar looking like the disco lights themselves and so much less irritating. Levi couldn't possibly resist reaching out and then he was addicted to it. Besides, you'd tugged him to the edge of the dance floor, careful not to pull him into the crowd so he had the opportunity. Now, he chuckles at the memory, running his hand from your hair all the way down to your hip like your body is a track and his hand the train. He can feel the extra straps of your lingerie through your thin sweater. The idea that you're dressed up all for him already has him feeling some kind of way and when you lean closer, eyeing his lips, he's meeting yours halfway in a hot kiss that contrasts the chilly winter air. </p><p>Amidst the feverish tango your lips are playing, you've pulled Levi's body to sandwich yours against the dresser, his hand against the edge as he steals the breath from your lungs. He growls against your lips when you lick at his, nails scratching the shaved half of his undercut. His hands grasp your thighs and seat you on the wood while he slots between your knees, licking up into your mouth like you're his favourite flavour of ice cream. You half moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair again while your free hand pulls gently at the necklace he has around the fabric of his turtleneck. </p><p>Levi pulls away from your lips only for a second, lust-clouded eyes meeting your own that reflected the same. The familiar match is lit between the two of you once again and you're back at each other's lips, kissing, sucking, nipping at the skin until it’s swollen. One of Levi's hands grasps your ankle, tracing up your skin and hiking up your already crumpled midi skirt, the red and white of the chiffon's print painting his skin the same shade. </p><p>When both of your breathing is short, you latch onto his jaw, right by his earlobe, nipping at the soft, smooth skin. While his eyes slip shut under your feathery touch, his hand is still tracing up your skin, now at your inner thigh under your skirt. Levi’s skin is cool, perhaps from the winter air, but his touch feels like branding iron against your warmest parts. You have this urge to clamp your thighs around his hand alone but before you can, Levi’s hand leaves its post and grasps the back of your thighs so he can carry you to bed. Your arms wrap tighter around his neck, yanking his head back so you can bite at more of his exposed skin granted the turtleneck hides a good chunk of it.</p><p>A grunt slips from him as your back presses into the fuzzy blanket but you don’t release your hold on your husband. It isn’t that Aykiz hasn’t allowed you two times to each other; it’s just not the all-nighters Levi’s insomnia allowed you to pull before because your daughter’s next door and she adores falling asleep on your husband who also serves as this family’s personal heater. Speaking of that, despite the icy weather, Levi is still warm as ever when you tug his sweater off, tossing the black turtle neck to the side. You’d fold it as he liked, but both of you are too caught up in the moment to care about clothing. </p><p>“Fuck,” Levi breathes against your skin, diving into the crook of your neck, “You’re the best fucking present, all wrapped up like this for me.”</p><p>His lips trail white-hot kisses down your neck from the back of your ear to your collarbones. A handful of red-purple bruises painted by his teeth make you both hum and moan, prompting your own assault on his neck while your fingers trace the ridges down his torso. They hook at the hem of his pants and, just because you like teasing him as much as he does you, you press your palm firm against his toned abdomen, allowing your nails to brush a little lower than that. Levi hisses, steel eyes meeting yours with blown pupils and a smirk you know all too well. </p><p>He has already bunched your skirt up by your hips so all that’s left to do is deal with your sweater but you both know Levi’s self-control is near impenetrable and when he’d given you that look a minute ago, you already knew what he wanted. So, when he presses your half exposed, blazing skin impossibly closer to his own heated one and flips himself onto the mattress, you don't waste any time and pull the sweater over your head. Slow and teasing. You stand while Levi props himself on his elbows to watch as your skirt falls to the floor and you’re left near-nude, clad in lace and a criss-cross of black straps. His tented pants tell you all you need to know in contrast to his carefully masked expression but you know he’ll drop it the second you slot your knee between his thighs. He does, groaning into the air between you two.</p><p>“You going to touch me or should I satisfy myself, Le-vi?” You press a teasing kiss to his lips, knee moving further up between the syllables of his name and you can see the temptation in the way Levi’s hands fist in the sheets. He shoots you a raised brow, a challenge to your statement, “Think you can, Y/N?”</p><p>It’s a rhetorical question. You know it. Levi knows it. And the answer is painfully evident in the way you bite your lip and practically eat him up with your scorching eyes. They hold the fire that’s forged Levi’s steel-lusted eyes. </p><p>Sneaky as he is, your husband has his jean-clad thigh against your lace-covered core, deliberately pressing it up against you. Your hips have a mind of their own when they move against the black fabric, uncaring of the stain that is sure to be there. Levi’s saying nothing but the way his eyes are tracing every inch of your skin from the hickeys he’s painted on your throat to the lace cupping your fleshy mounds to the way you’re grinding against his thigh. Fuck, you really are his favourite gift.</p><p>While he’s watching you grind against him, your eyes wander to the ink winding around his arm and behind his shoulder. You’ve always found something about that tattoo so damn exciting, and it’s doing something to you now. Leaning down, you kiss the ink a few times before beginning to suck little bruises up the expanse of the design. Levi is watching you, silent like a cat watching a mouse. It’s like flowers are sprouting on the design everywhere you kiss and he can’t help the deep moan that slips his lips when you deliver a particularly harsh bite to the skin on his shoulders.</p><p>Just when he can tell you’ve sped up on his thigh to chase your end, moaning while your hands rest on his abs, he pulls his thigh away and replaces it with his slender fingers. He pushes past the lace, delving into your soaking heat but you pull his hand away, instead using it to pull him up to sit as you simultaneously drop to your knees. Levi’s eyes are caught by the glitter in your hair once more. He reaches out and weaves his fingers through the locks, leaning his elbows on his knees and he’s already decided how he wants to finish. </p><p>With mild force, he pulls your head up to face his, crashing his lips against yours. You don’t protest. Levi runs his other palm along your skin, from your thighs up to your breast where your kisses grow bruising in contrast to his feather-light tracing until he finds the clasp that holds your bra together. Your nails rake up his skin, teasing at his nips before making a u-turn. Dexterous fingers clip your bra open, swollen lips pulling away from yours as his hoarse breathing fans your skin, watching with hooded eyes as the straps fall from your shoulders and the others tied around your torso unravel like a wool-thread from a ball of yarn—Levi’s every bit the cat you always accuse him of being. </p><p>Unbuckling his belt in a snap, you pull the leather from the loops, eyes flicking down to it as your bra falls to the floor. You consider binding his hands for a moment but toss the idea aside along with the belt. Levi doesn’t miss it, biting his lower lip as he yanks his jeans down. The two of you settle into the cushions with you straddling him, but when his hands come to rest at your hips, you pry them off, “Do you want to be tied, Levi?”</p><p>Thin brows raise in amusement but furrow at the pleasure when your nails rake against his clothed shaft. You pull your hand closer to the edge of his underwear, touch telling him to raise his hips so you can pull him free. He complies as you drag your core closer. He can hardly breathe at the way just the heat of you so close to his member is making him twitch. Bending forward you lay a few kisses and kitten licks on his tip, fingers following the veins like cats’ paws do yarn. He can feel your slick on his thighs but does nothing but throw all his focus into not touching your enticing person. It isn’t long before you suck the tip and Levi curses out loud, bucking up into you. It’s only a distraction for him to squeeze his eyes shut while you slip your panties aside. Before he can even finish his string of colourful profanities, you’ve taken him where he wants you to without him ever realizing it. It’s Levi’s fault he squeezed his eyes shut. </p><p>“Wh-The fuck? Have I not been fucking you enough, because you feel so god damn tight, I—”</p><p>“Keep talking like that and I can slip you out just as easily, Ackerman. I want nothing out of that dirty little mouth but those filthy sounds you make.” Even though you’re panting and your voice is strained from the feeling of being all filled up, Levi does as told and hisses when you experimentally roll your hips, both of your brows furrowed.</p><p>You clasp his hands in yours, pressing them into the pillow his head is on to use as leverage to ride him and, by God, Levi’s self-control is wavering. It’s only impenetrable until you’re treating him so goddamn well. Obscene squelches and your own lewd sounds are what force Levi to buck his hips to meet you halfway. You’d normally stop there, but you can’t bring yourself to when he’s hitting so much deeper inside you that you have to bite your lip. Hard. </p><p>When he’s close, you stop, a shit-eating smirk on your face as you pant from the exertion. Levi likes being edged as much as he likes doing it. You go back at it just as he begins to speak and this sequence repeats several times until you’ve cum once and Levi’s more frustrated than you’ve ever seen him. “Goddamn it,” He all but whines, “j-just fucking let me fill you up. For fuck’s sake, Y/N.”</p><p>You lean over, lips by his ear and his breath hitches, “Take over, <em>Captain</em>.” </p><p>Levi once held that rank on the sports team in your university and something about the way you call him that in bed with his soaked, hard cock buried in you makes him growl and pull you off of him. There’s no way his eyes miss the way your juices stick like saliva from a kiss and that only fuels him to do as he’s told once more. He takes over, as you’ve commanded, pressing himself back into you so slow <em>you</em> are whining.</p><p>“Fucking hell, I forgot how much of a damn tease you are,” Levi whispers, running a hand through his hair, chest heaving and sweat leaving trails down his body. He looks so fucking delicious you nearly regret not letting him finish so you could savour his expression. No matter; Levi’s got it covered. </p><p>You expect him to tease the fuck out of you as you did him, but you realize he won’t when he leans over you, your legs wrapped around his waist. Levi lowers himself so close to you, there’s barely any space between your bodies and the way his fingers brush against your hairline, brow, lashes, down your nose and then your bottom lip tells you he will ruin you in the softest way he can. He might just break you. You can’t help but whisper his name because he’s looking at you like you’re the one who holds the stars, “Levi…?”</p><p>“I just…” And then pauses, eyes ravishing you while he holds himself inside you, “Tch, fuck that.” It’s not a change of plans; it’s just he can’t find the words he wants. Not that Levi needs them when he starts thrusting into your sopping cunt <em>so damn deep</em> but slow enough that you can <em>feel</em> every little twitch. He’s so close and he could bring both of you to the edge so easily, but he doesn’t <em>want to</em>. </p><p>Your arms come around his neck, low moans leaving your lips to kiss his skin because you don’t have the heart to shatter his expression: brows furrowed, eyes hooded as he stares down at you, panting, using the headboard to support himself. Then, you reach out with a trembling hand and curl a hand into his hair, the other taking one of his and pressing it to your abdomen along with your own. </p><p>“Y/N…”</p><p>“Levi…” </p><p>It’s like a siren’s song to you both, the other’s name. Levi never abandons the soft, sensual pace he’s set even as tears pool in both your eyes because it feels like too much. He only presses both your hands on your abdomen down, keeping his face far enough so he can keep his eyes locked with yours like laser connections. Neither of you wants to close your eyes when you both finally pull each other over the edge, but the way your bodies are shaking forces you to do so. Levi has to pull his hands away from yours to grip the headboard with both and you can hardly pull yourself up to kiss him though you want to.</p><p>When you’re both little more than panting messes you chuckle and he cracks his eyes open, mirroring the mirth in your eyes, “Knew you’d ruin me.” </p><p>“Did-Didn’t I?” He stutters when your walls squeeze around him like you’re telling him he did so, so well. You bite your lips. Brushing his hair away from his forehead, “You’ve done it so many times now in so many ways, what can I say?”</p><p>Levi sears your lips with one final kiss before he’s pulling himself from your warmth, mixed fluid staining your thighs and the sheets. His fingers gather some of the leakage up, pressing into you though he knows you’re too sensitive and your hissing conforms it. Still, he gently fucks them into your cunt, one hand still against the headboard. Your squirm, shimmying upwards and away from his touch with a pout. </p><p>A hoarse chuckle rumbled in his throat and your traitorous body is reacting to the baritone but Levi plops into bed next to you, kicking the stained blanket off the bed. He hates it when that happens but it’s worth it. You turn your head to look at him, “No shower tonight?”</p><p>“Sure you won’t be tempted in there?” Levi retorts.</p><p>“Can’t say…” You hum, fingers tracing the black tendrils of ink on his shoulder. He pretends to be irritated but scoops you up in his arms anyway, nearly tripping over the mess you’ve made in the room as he slowly moves towards the bathroom on shaky legs.  </p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Christmas Glitter (SFW) | Levi Ackerman Birthday Special (2020)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <em> <b>Levi x Reader [ft. Kuchel &amp; Aykiz Ackerman]</b> </em>
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  <em> <b>Modern verse—fluff</b> </em>
</p><p><b> <em>A/N: </em> </b> <em>Levi’s much taller in this fic than he is in the anime because the guy actually got proper nutrition this time.</em></p><hr/><p> </p><p>Did you enjoy the season because it snowed, because it was the holiday season or because it was Levi’s birthday? Who knew? Maybe it was all three situations combined. Your husband marked it as yet another day in the year; he just happened to be born the same day, nothing particularly special in his eyes. However, he allowed you the luxury of celebrating his existence as you pleased so long as it did not involve a crowd. He was, in fact, pleased that his birthday landed in the holiday season every year; the main reason being that he didn’t have to spend it at work receiving birthday wishes from people he hardly knew. Levi’s circle was carefully filtered down to a few people that actually knew his birthdate and he liked it that way instead of a fuss being created over it. Christmas was fussy enough as it was.</p><p>Aykiz, however, would never miss an opportunity to make a ‘fuss’ over it. She knew well she was welcomed to do so because Levi found himself bemused by his daughter’s little antics. Surely, she could make a fuss over his birthday and get away with it. Still, you weren’t sure if Aykiz could make a fuss and a mess and still get away with it. As you work on the custard in the kitchen, turning the stove down once the mixture begins to simmer, Aykiz sits on a stool by the island, littering glitter all over the marble.</p><p>She told you that she needed to make some finishing touches to her card nearly thirty minutes ago but it seemed like the girl has changed her mind altogether. A random tune bursts from the speaker of your laptop set above the unused microwave, a song that was hardly appropriate for Christmas, but your attention is divided between your daughter and the bowl in front of you.</p><p>“Aykiz,” You call. She hums in response, brows furrowed as her gloved fingers brush away the excess glitter, scattering red and green sparkles all over the kitchen island. “You should start cleaning up. Levi will be coming home any minute now.”</p><p>Levi went to pick Kuchel from her house, the matter insisted upon by Aykiz. Now, your mother in law is more than capable of bringing herself to your house; all of you know this. Regardless, Levi had called his mother last night and told her he’d be the one picking her up so he could pretend to have no idea about whatever preparations Aykiz needs to make for his birthday. Of course, he knows she’s brewing something up and that this is her best excuse to keep him out of the house until she is finished. Aykiz did the same for your birthday, and Levi was in on it. How could he not know?</p><p>“Don’t worry, ‘m almost finished,” Aykiz mumbles in reply, knocking the folded paper against the edge of the island to make sure all of the excess glitter is gone. “Worry about getting ready! You haven’t even changed yet!”</p><p>Well, you can hardly argue with that. Yes, you have yet to change out of your pyjamas but that is all you have to do. There isn’t much you intend to do with your hair, and the minimal amount of make-up was already taken care of. With a shake of your head, you mix the butter and vanilla into the custard then pour into a dish and set it in the fridge to cool. With a pat to Aykiz’s head and a now-muted laptop in your hand, you leave to change out of your pyjamas. Junior, your cat, is slumbering away in its own little corner of the room as you brush through your hair and part it as you see fit. Just as you reapply your tinted lip balm, the ding of the bell echoes around the house. For a second you wonder if Levi forgot his keys. Then, you chuckle to yourself realizing that’s his way of giving Aykiz a sign to hide her little present under the Christmas tree by the hearth. Aykiz scrambles to do exactly that as you stalk over to the gate, unlocking it and pulling it open.</p><p>Your mother in law, Kuchel, greets you with a warm hug as Levi closes the door behind him, taking Kuchel’s bag of presents and setting it aside neatly. Aykiz is behind you, crushing Kuchel in a bear hug the moment you part from her—not that Kuche minds. As Aykiz leads Kuchel into the house after she’s taken off her shoes, you and Levi follow.</p><p>You’re about to part ways with them to set up the table when Levi’s hand on the small of your back stops you. “Sit. I’ll take it from here.” When no argument comes from your end, Levi disappears into the kitchen and you take a seat next to Kuchel and Aykiz who’s chatting away with her grandmother about a novel both of them have read. You’ve read it, too, so you join in while Levi sets up the table.</p><hr/><p>“That tree was huge. I managed to climb it and get the cat but I didn’t know how to get down!” Kuchel pauses, taking a sip of the Blueberry Le’Mint tea sitting in front of her on the table. Aykiz sits on the rug with Junior in her lap, too engrossed in the story, idly mixing honey that has long dissolved into her cup.</p><p>“Did you jump down, then? Did the poor cat get hurt, too?” You ask, motioning back to the scar that had started the whole ordeal. After dinner came tea and custard. Kuchel had rolled up her sleeves so they wouldn’t accidentally dip into the food when Aykiz saw the scar and asked how it came to be on her person. You knew there and then it was story time, making yourself comfortable beside Levi on the couch as the sun began to set and Junior prowled out of your bedroom.</p><p>Kuchel nods her head in affirmation, placing her cup back on its saucer, “When the cat managed to climb down and left, I began crying so loud, <em>‘Help me get down, help me get down!’</em>. Kenny heard me and came to find me.”</p><p>“I see why the migratory birds changed their course, ma.” Levi drawls, cracking a smile. Aykiz looks over her shoulder at him, then at Kuchel with wide eyes, “Really?!”</p><p>“Who knows?” She shrugs, smiling down at Aykiz, “I was just grateful Kenny found me, but he said he won’t help me even when I promised to do whatever he wanted. He said, <em>‘If I help you now, what will you do tomorrow? Get back down the way you got up.’</em> I threw my shoe at him when he walked away.”</p><p>“So, uncle Kenny didn’t help you at all?” Aykiz asks, incredulous. Beside you, Levi murmurs something about Kenny being born an asshole, taking his cup by the rim to sip his tea. You roll your eyes, secretly agreeing with him as you recall the first few times you’d met Kenny as Kuchel clicked her tongue as if to say no. She took another gulp of tea before continuing, “In the end, I got down by myself. I mean, I did have two broken fingers and a bleeding wound, but that’s no big deal.”</p><p>While you hide your laugh behind your cup, Levi’s murmuring behind his about Kenny <em>really</em> being a bastard and Aykiz is smiling ear to ear at her Ku-ma’s stories. Sooner than your daughter would appreciate it, Kuchel gives each of you a present—you a book because you love her recommendations, Aykiz a gigantic box of markers, and Levi a box full of home-grown tea she knows he loves. It’s not that she doesn’t like presents, Aykiz adores them; it’s just that it means Kuchel will be going home in a few minutes and she doesn’t want her to go. It is evident in the way she sets Junior down on the carpet.</p><p>By the time all of you are done exchanging presents, Aykiz realizes she hasn’t given Levi the box of chinas she’s spent hours wrapping. She leaves her stack of presents, pulls her little box with a ridiculously glittery card on it from under the tree and jogs over to Levi, “You don’t celebrate your birthday, but I still wanted to give you this. Happy birthday, papa!”</p><p>Levi swears he’s smiling abnormally wide as he takes the box from his daughter, glitter from their scarves on his card drawing caking both their hands. He kneels and kisses her forehead with a soft, ‘Thank you, moon’ and you can feel your heart melting all over again in your chest as Aykiz loops her arms around Levi’s neck. Kuchel coos beside you, a hand placed over your shoulder in silent gratitude for bringing more colour to her son’s life. You know she adores you as much as she does him, and perhaps she adores Aykiz more than both of you, but you can’t find it in you to say anything as Levi’s eyes meet yours with the same gratitude Kuchel’s touch has.  </p><p>When they part, Aykiz is smiling as wide as she possibly can and even though Levi’s smile has shrunk, you can feel the warmth in his chest through the sparkle in his eyes. That’s all you could ask for on Christmas.</p><p>“Papa, can’t Ku-ma stay tonight?” Aykiz says, looking from her father to Kuchel. It’s not that she can’t, but she has a flight tomorrow morning and she hasn't brought her luggage with her. Levi meets his mother’s eyes with a question, knowing neither of them wants to part just yet. Kuchel hasn’t visited as often thanks to this new project she has going so you both know Aykiz misses her even if the girl doesn’t mention it as much.</p><p>“My girl, I want to but Ku-ma has to catch a flight tomorrow morning. I would’ve brought my suitcase if I knew beforehand.” Kuchel coos, accepting the pouty hug Aykiz gives her as she meets eyes with the two of you. Then, she pulls away from Aykiz and grins as if she’s just had the best idea ever; and she has, “How about you come home with me and I can drop you home on my way to the airport? What do you say?”</p><p>Aykiz hardly needs to give it a second thought. Before you know it, she’s already nodding her head eagerly and running off to pack a night bag for herself. You exchange a glance with Levi, and you’re both waiting for your daughter to leave the room so you can make sure it’s not too much trouble for Kuchel. Aykiz isn’t a handful, but dropping her home in time to catch a plane is another story. Just as Aykiz leaves, she scurries back to take her presents and set them in her room—the organizer genes are definitely Levi’s; you’re hardly as efficient.</p><p>“Ma, are you sure?” Levi says when he’s sure Aykiz is out of earshot. Kuchel pats his shoulder for reassurance; she's sure she wants her granddaughter to herself for one night. What she's even more sure of is that you two could use some time alone, too. It's a win-win situation for both parties so why not?</p><p>You excuse yourself to pack the two of them some leftovers from the dinner to save Kuchel the trouble of making breakfast, then double-check Aykiz has kept everything she needs and fetch Levi's keys before returning to the living room where Aykiz skips over to Kuchel's bag with Junior in her arms, meowing.</p><p>Finally, when Kuchel returns from the restroom, the three settle into Levi’s car while you lock the door. He’s waiting in the driver’s seat for you when you climb into the passenger’s, Kuchel and Aykiz in the back. Once all of your seat belts are secured, Levi ignites the engine and pulls out of the driveway. A shiver runs through you and you realize your sweater is too thin to be out of the house like this. Turning up the heating, Levi glances at you.</p><p>“Es-ma, are you cold?” Aykiz chirps from the backseat. You don’t want her to worry over you, so you reach back and pat her knee with a shake of your head. Kuchel offers you her coat; her sweater is enough to keep her warm with the heating Levi’s just turned up. You politely refuse, saying you should get used to the chill for the ride back when you reach the red light on the crossroad.</p><p>Frost melts against the warmed windshield making Levi click his tongue and turn the wipers on to clear some of it. He can catch you shivering every once in a while while you chat with Kuchel, prompting him to unbuckle his belt, lean forward and—with some effort—strip himself of his overcoat. You pause to protest when he drapes the fabric over you like a blanket, taking the belt with his free hand before returning the other form you to the steering wheel, the light green for go now.</p><p>After dropping Kuchel and Aykiz off at her place, the two of you return home with you still snuggling into Levi’s coat until you return it. He takes it, disappearing into your room to hand it in his side of the closet while you take to cleaning the glitter that’s left scattered around the kitchen island. Aykiz cleans well enough, just not as well as you or Levi.</p><p>You hear Levi take care of the leftover dishes without complaint, snapping his gloves and apron on. He’s finished in time for you to dump the last of the extra glitter in the bin, “Go. I’ll finish up here, yeah?”</p><p>“We need to teach Aykiz to clean her own damn messes when she gets back.” With that, Levi’s off to wash up when you stop him by taking his hand. He turns to face you, watching as you step closer and cup his face in your cool hands, “Happy birthday, you grumpy cat.” You murmur before sealing his lips with yours; Levi’s favourite birthday wish and you can tell by the way he smiles in the kiss.</p>
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